Family Ties
by kattafre6611
Summary: Set right after where 3#14 left us. Esther betrayed her children. Elena betrayed Elijah. Stefan betrayed his true feelings. Damon betrayed his deepest desire. Each betrayal left its traces...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

A/N: I'm all excited to come up with another fic. It's probably not getting as long as 'The Longest Night' is, I'm thinking about something between 10 and 15 chapters...Then again, that's what I thought about TLN, too...

Again a huge thanks to my wonderful, spontaneous and fast beta Kymberleii (yeah, yeah, I know you don't need this shout out...:-) )

Please, don't forget to push the button below to tell me what you think...

Here it goes...

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

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><p>Pain.<p>

Lately this seems to be the main theme in her life and in those of all her loved ones.

And now it's what the vampire claiming not to feel for months now says he's feeling too.

If he lets himself care, he says.

Elena stares in the darkness Stefan vanished into a few minutes ago, unable to decide to turn around, go inside and close the door.

Closing the door behind him resembles the symbolical act of closing this chapter of her life way too much. And although she's working on coping with it, she still can't bring herself to make a final decision.

She just can't.

Despite everything he did to her.

And despite everything she's feeling currently.

How did everything become so messed up?

And to top it all, she hurt Damon tonight.

Really, badly hurt him.

She cringes. It's not the first time she hurt him, but it never was as bad as tonight. She knows that. And she knew it the moment the words slipped out of her mouth.

She will never forget his facial expression after she said those words. She didn't mean to hurt him; of course she didn't mean that his love for her was a problem. Although for her it definitely _is_ a problem, but not the way he understood it. In none of the ways he understood it.

She sighs deeply, turns her head briefly to her house and shakes her head.

She can't go in and close the door from inside.

So she grabs the door knob and pulls the door shut from outside. Then, still contemplating where the hell she could go now, she walks over to her car and gets in.

She doesn't know where she's driving to until she stops in front of Matt's house, but she sees immediately that he's not at home; the windows are dark, and his truck isn't here. And all of a sudden she feels very lonely. She shuts off the ignition, leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes.

The longing to be with her childhood friend is strong, to feel his familiar arms around her; every time when Matt held her lately it felt a little as if she was the girl from pre-parental-accident and especially pre-vampire times again, it felt like being embraced by…family. And that's exactly what she needs right now, to be caught by her family. (She misses having a family so much.)

Unwillingly the picture of the other man catching and comforting her during the last months appears in her mind, and she shudders when she realizes that behind her closed eyes, he's staring at her with the same look as at the ball, when she said those horrible words. Right after he had told her once more that he loved her.

Oh God. How will she ever fix this?

It's then when she notices that her face is damp from tears she's shedding. Wiping away the spilling drops she reopens her eyes and startles; right beside her is a face, looking straight at her, separated from her only by the window glass and a few inches space between them.

Her hearts jumps in her throat and she gasps. And then she realizes it's just Matt. She sinks back in her seat, trembling, but she quickly regains her composure when he opens the door and pulls her out of the car, hugging her gently at the sight of her wet cheeks.

After a while he lets her go and asks just one word: "Coffee?"

Still sniffing, she smiles at him weakly and nods. "That would be great, Matt. Thanks."

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><p>.<p>

Damon lay on his bed for hours now, alternately staring at the ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut, desperately trying to fall asleep, but still sleep fails to come to release him for a while. He glances over to the slender figure lying beside him and tries to decipher his feelings right now, toward the blonde vampire and otherwise.

He comes up blank. For a second there he contemplates if he has flipped the switch; then he snorts. Of course not. That's not an option. Not anymore. Besides, you can't flip the switch without even knowing it, can you?

He lets his eyes wander over Rebekah's sleeping form and thinks back to what they did a few hours ago, and he has to admit, it was hot. The hottest sex he had for ages. He can't prevent a broad grin settling on his face, until the thought crosses his mind _why_ it had been so hot, and the grin fades away. Angry sex, that's what it was, fueled by fury on both sides.

He sighs and lifts a hand to stroke back a strand of her blonde hair, away from her face that he's studying now. She's beautiful. (It's not her fault that in his mind's eye, he saw another face all night long, a face framed by brown hair.) And, although it feels somewhat weird, he kind of likes her. She's a brat, undeniable. But she has fire, and he definitely likes her recklessness and her impulsiveness. And he also likes the humanity sometimes unexpectedly flashing; kindred spirits, that's what they are, in many ways as far as he knows.

_He wants to care…_Rose's words suddenly echo in his head. He misses her, and with a pang he realizes that he begins to feel a little for Rebekah as he has felt for Rose. And yes, she was right; he wants to care. Back then he never would've admitted it, but things have changed. That's why Stefan's words affected him so much tonight. Yeah, he knows that's not what his brother _really_ thinks about him caring. He's not in his clear state of mind, or at least he's pretending not to be, and he puts on a good show to prove it. Yet, it was Stefan's words that she didn't say, but _she_ meant them.

The woman who always has told him to be the better man, to _care_, has told him he cared too damn much now. Because inconveniently he cares about _her_. Because, even more inconvenient, he loves her.

He snorts. He wants it to be an angry snort, but it comes out as nothing but sadness. He feels tears of bitterness pool in his eyes, and with the effort to fight them back, suddenly the world comes crushing down on him, and embarrassed he realizes that there is no way to stop them anymore. He turns around, hiding these tears, just in case she wakes up, and then he lets them flow.

Unfortunately vampire senses are heightened, and sleep usually is light. He knows it the moment she wakes up that she isn't asleep anymore, and of course she knows what is happening beside her, she doesn't need to see it.

He expects disdain, a snarky comment at least. But it never comes. What he doesn't expect is the warm hand lying on his bare shoulder, silently connecting with him. It stays there until the tears finally ebb away, and when it eventually lifts, it's all too late. The connection stays intact. And with sudden clarity he knows, he has one more person to care about.

And somehow he feels a lot better than before.

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><p>.<p>

"Wait, what?"

"She apologized." Matt can't hide his grin about the incredulity in Elena's face. And he can even top it. "And she wanted to buy me a drink. And I think maybe she wanted even more…"

Elena stares at her childhood friend, hell, her ex-boyfriend, and tries to picture him with Rebekah, the _evil blood slut_, as Caroline put it so eloquently. The thought makes her shudder.

"But…," she's searching for the right words, "what does a ruthless, arrogant, impulsive vampire want with you, a good, caring, selfless human?"

It takes her a while to understand the glance he's throwing her, to get why this slight smile curls his lips.

And, to her utter bewilderment, he then says "She's not all bad, you know?" He laughs at her facial expression, as if he completely has lost it; and this finally breaks the tension, and she laughs, too.

Then, against better judgment, she nods. "I know. I saw her human side right before…" she hesitates briefly, "…I stabbed her…in the back." She grabs Matt's hand and holds it firmly in hers. A familiar feeling, although long ago. "Still, Matt, she's dangerous…"

Matt interrupts her, laying his other hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Elena. I rejected her. It's just…apart from Caroline, she was the first vampire I actually trusted, if only for a brief moment. I mean, don't get me wrong, Damon…" He cuts himself off when he sees her eyes darkening. "What was it with you and him tonight, Elena?" he asks softly. He knows something must have happened between the two of them. He saw the look in Damon's eyes after rescuing him and snapping the Original's neck, the look he has cast toward her when his brother asked him if he was crazy. As crazed as his eyes looked that moment, Matt saw the hurt lingering beneath; he's no stranger to pain, after all.

Averting her eyes, Elena pulls her hand away and rises to her feet. "You want some more coffee?"

But Matt isn't just anyone. He's known her his whole life, and he knows her well. He won't let her sneak away just like that.

He snatches her hand again and holds her back as she tries to leave. "Elena, you have to talk about it to someone. You can't really talk to Bonnie about Damon, because she still kinda hates vampires; and you can't talk to Care about him either; she's biased, because he was a dick to her back then." He watches as Elena slumps down on the couch beside him, and he knows she doesn't like being reminded about what has happened a year ago between the vampire and one of her best friends. He decides that she needs comforting words more than anything else right now. "You can't really expect her to see how much he has changed. Although I'm certain she sees it. Still…"

He takes a deep breath; he doesn't know exactly what to say to console her. So he just goes on to say what comes into his mind, until she reacts in some way. "He…I think I never met someone before who… loved someone as much as he loves you" he finally says, and it elicits a reaction, which is what he'd been hoping for. And yet it isn't the reaction he wanted toe see, because within seconds it turns her into a sobbing picture of misery. He breathes in sharply, then he just pulls her in his arms and holds her.

When the sobs cease, he pulls away cautiously and asks again.

"What happened between you, Elena? Talk to me. Please."

Elena tosses him a wary side glance, and all she sees is concern; and suddenly the shell around her cracks and falls off, and it leaves the scared little girl she always wants to hide from the world and from herself.

"I said something…" she whispers. She swallows and rephrases, because that wasn't where it started.

"I _did_ something. I had Stefan, Stefan of all people, stop Damon from holding me back on meeting Esther. He…snapped Damon's neck."

"Wait, Esther, as in the original witch? You met her?" Matt asks incredulous, and Elena nods, and then it's as if a dam breaks, and she tells him everything happening tonight; she tells him about her anger about Damon's overprotectiveness and how it annoyed her that he didn't trust her to make her own decisions; about what Esther has told her, about the blood she gave the witch, about her betrayal of Elijah, and about what bothered her the most, her lashing out at Damon and, even worse, his reaction.

"I hurt him so much, Matt…" She's not able to hold back the tears any longer, and again she sits there, crying silently. She thinks about Damon, and her heart aches. And she doesn't know exactly for who it aches, for him or for her.

She thinks that it aches for both of them.

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><p>.<p>

Somehow sleep came to her tonight. They ended up in Matt's bed, tangled in a tight embrace, but neither of them felt any awkwardness about it. They are childhood friends, nothing more and nothing less. And it's the first time they both realize that finally it's only about this friendship again. He's finally over her and capable of being just a good friend again.

However, Matt doesn't fall asleep. When Elena has told him about her meeting with Esther, she has said something that has triggered a bad feeling, but he can't put his finger on it. Not yet.

He turns it over and over again in his mind, and when the sun just begins to rise, he suddenly knows what it is disturbing him, and he sits upright in a second, involuntarily tearing Elena with him a little; enough to wake her.

She sits up straight and looks around frantically, until Matt notices what has happen and calms her down.

"Shh, everything is okay, Elena, lay down again…" he whispers soothingly.

She lies down with a sigh, but examines his facial expressions warily. "What is it, Matt?" she asks him, still a little sleepily.

He spares her only a brief look and knows that he doesn't even have to try to hide his thoughts.

"I considered everything you told me about Esther's revelations. Tell me again what she said about killing her family. Try to remember every word she said."

She watches him with caution in her eyes; she knows he found out something, and she's not quite sure she really wants to know. She furrows her brows while thinking about the talk she had with Esther.

"She told me about her friend Ayana preserving her body for over a thousand years, and that holding her captured on the other side was nature's way of punishing her for turning her family into vampires; but that there was a way for her to end it…"

Matt interrupts her, and she doesn't like at all the frightened expression on his face. "Wait. Think about it; what exactly did she say?"

Elena eyes him and does as he says; she tries to picture the conversation with Esther in her mind, and suddenly her eyes go wide with fear. She looks up and her eyes meet Matt's, and the expression in his eyes mirrors her feeling of horror; and when she speaks, merely a whisper leaves her mouth.

"She wants to undo the evil she created…"

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><p>.<p>

Caroline isn't the only one of the friends tossing and turning in her bed tonight, but of course she doesn't know that.

And her reason is much different from those of her friends. She's conflicted.

Again. She just can't catch a break, can she?

She sighs, and when the first rays of sun filter through the slit between her curtains, she hauls herself in an upright position and leans against the headboard. She grabs the note from her night stand and looks at it again.

It's a little kitschy for her taste, but nevertheless she's impressed. He portrayed her well, and she knows it's more than only the physiognomy that he caught; she can detect the real _her _in the drawing. How could he even know her that well? Before the incident of him healing her with his blood, healing the bite he himself has caused, they had barely met. And yet…_I know_…He knows a damn lot about her. The Miss Mystic Falls Contest was long ago after all.

Her eyes shift to the ball gown lying over her chair, and a shiver of self loathing for wearing it at all runs down her spine. She briefly wonders why she still has to behave as shallow as a kiddie pool from time to time. Vanity first! Bonnie will despise her for this, and she's right…

Her eyes drift back to the note Klaus wrote underneath the drawing. She sighs again; she's quite sure that not many people in his long life had the decency to tell him the unwanted truth and were lucky enough to survive it. She doesn't know what gave her the courage to be so bold last night.

Then again…she knows exactly why she did it. It's all this pent up anger that broke free, the anger about the sire bond, Jenna's death, turning Stefan into a dick, the anger about Klaus making so many lives miserable.

And after all the pain he has caused he has the gall to court her. And to plant seed of doubt in her mind about his evilness.

With a cry of sudden rage she scrunches up the note and hurls it into a corner of her room. She jumps up from her bed, rushes over to the opposite corner, as if to put as much distance between her and the paper as possible, and punches her flat hand against the wall, savoring the flare of pain stinging on her palm for a few seconds. Then she stands there, curling her hands to fists, until after a while the tension ebbs away and she weakly leans her back against the wall.

Pushing herself away from the wall after a moment, she sneaks over to the corner where she threw the damn paper, kneels down and cautiously, as if she's expecting it to bite her, seizes it and then smoothes it out on her thigh.

A desperate moan escapes her throat, she leans her head against the wall, and closing her eyes, she whispers: "Why the hell are you doing this to me?"

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><p>.<p>

Damon's just pulling on fresh clothes after taking a shower when he hears the frantic knocking on the front door. He casts a glance to his bathroom where Rebekah still is showering, pulls the hem of his shirt down and, after a brief glance into the mirror, descends the stairs. Before he even is downstairs the door opens and reveals Elena and Matt. _Huh._ A quick glance at the old grandfather clock confirms what he knows anyway; it's not even 7 a.m. What the hell are they doing here at this time in the morning? Why has she actually to come here at all? He doesn't want to see her now…

He breathes deeply in and out, squares his shoulders and enters the parlor the exact same moment as they come in from the other side. Damon frowns for a second when he sees Elena's face; he can see that she hasn't slept much, if at all, and somehow he knows that she has cried, too. And then something else flies over her features, something Damon instantly deciphers as fear. He wonders what has her so frightened that she can't hide it. Still, the next moment it's gone.

The snarky comment about their showing up early to his house is stuck somewhere on its way from his brain to his mouth. He has to clear his throat before addressing them.

"What do you want?" he snaps when he finally is able to say anything at all, and he regrets it the same moment he sees the pain in her eyes. He doesn't want to hurt her, no matter how much she has hurt him. And yet, part of him feels satisfaction.

He watches as Matt gently takes her arm to give her support, and again he is torn. But Elena shrugs it off, and right now Damon just feels relieved.

"We need to talk about Esther" Elena announces before anyone can steer the conversation in an unwanted direction, and again fear flickers in her eyes for a second. Damon nods, but another voice cuts in, and it makes Elena tense and a chill runs down her spine; Rebekah.

"What do _you_ have to talk about in regards to my mother?" she asks, descending the last of the stairs and entering the parlor, and hostility is emanating off of her with every word she's spitting out.

Elena flashes Damon a brief glance and then turns toward Rebekah, and although he is quite sure that he discerns another feeling behind her demeanor (he thinks that it looks remarkably like jealousy), she seems to be calm and composed. "She asked me to help her with something" Elena says, and feeling everyone's attention turn to her, she goes on: "She asked me for my help to kill you."

The sudden silence is deafening. No one moves for quite awhile, until Rebekah says sharply, but unable to prevent her voice from shaking lightly: "What does that mean? Kill who exactly?"

And everybody, including herself, knows the answer. "Her children."

With a cry Rebekah pounces forward toward Elena, but she doesn't even come close to her; Damon lunges on her, hurling her away, but it's not lost on Elena that his move isn't as violent as she has expected it to be, since he's protecting _her_, and a very inconvenient feeling instantly creeps its way through her veins straight to her heart.

Rebekah regains her composure fast. "Why would my mother want to kill her own children?" she snaps out angrily. "She wants us to be a family again, after a thousand years to finally be a family again…" Her voice breaks, and Elena's eyes go wide as she watches Damon laying his hand on the blonde vampire's shoulder, squeezing it soothingly. Hot jealousy washes over her body at that sight.

Damon lets Rebekah go and turns to Elena "Spill."

For a second she flinches at the anger toward her etched in his features, but then she straightens up a little and focuses on what is her priority at the moment; right now she can't care about fixing what she broke last night. That has to wait. She hasn't even told them what Matt figured out…

And then there is something else she has to fix, another mistake she made at the ball. She takes a deep breath. "I'm going to call Elijah first; we need him to be here, too…"

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><p>.<p>

A/N: So, did you like it so far? You want me to go on? Tell me...push the button...the blue one down there...:


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

A/N: I thank you all sooo much for all your encouraging words you wrote in your reviews, especially those I couldn't answer directly!

I'm glad you liked it so far, and I'm happy about the amount of alerts and favs I got for the first chapter!

As for this chapter, it had already been written before 'All my children' had been aired, so it goes different than the show. In the third chapter you will see though, that it was unavoidable (for me at least) to adapt the story in small parts a little to the episode, and this forced me to change the plot I had intended; that's why it took so long, because I wasn't sure if I'd be able to figure out a way that would make me content.

Obviously it worked...

A HUGE thanks to my beta again, who is doing an incredibly good job in the most sensitive way I could imagine!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

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><p>.<p>

Rebekah texts her brother, and despite the early time, it doesn't take Elijah more than a few minutes to knock at the door of the boarding house. Damon lets him in, signaling him with a wave of his hand to join the others in the parlor. With a questioning look he then hands him a tumbler filled with the blood he wanted to drink; when Elijah accepts it, nodding as a thank you, Damon saunters over to the kitchen to fetch a third blood bag, and within a minute all three vampires are sipping their breakfast.

Matt watches Elena, who doesn't even seem to notice the weirdness of someone having a blood bag as breakfast anymore; however, he isn't used to seeing vampires nursing blood at all, and he can't help but feeling disgusted and averting his eyes from them until they are done.

Elijah places his empty tumbler on a table. "You didn't call me here to spend some quality time with me, I presume" he addresses Elena despite knowing that his sister was the one who texted him to come here. Elena instantly suspects that he knows about her betrayal and she feels her stomach quivering.

"There is something I have to tell you…," she starts hesitantly, not quite sure about what reaction to expect from him, and unknowingly she crosses her arms in front of her chest. She has already seen what he can do with his hands, after all. Swallowing she braces herself. "I've made a mistake…I lied to you."

Not for the first time, Elijah surprises her. "I know," he simply says, and after a brief pause an amused smile curls his lips. "You're a terrible liar, Elena. Something else you don't have in common with your doppelganger."

Rebekah cuts in, and her voice barely hides her anger against Elena. "How can you be so nice to her? Haven't you heard her? She lied to you!" she spits out.

Elijah spares his sister only a glance before locking his eyes with Elena. "I know that Mother is up to something, and I know it's nothing good. Why don't you tell us what you know? Let's all have a seat and talk." He calmly gestures toward the couches and armchairs spread all over the room, and everybody does as he suggested; only Rebekah doesn't follow his proposal and remains standing, leaning against a sideboard. Elijah gives his sister a pointed look, but doesn't comment on her refusal.

Instead he addresses Elena again. "I take it Mother didn't just apologize to you," he gives her a half smile, and Elena thinks that Rebekah is right; how can he be so nice to her?

"No." She pauses and slowly shakes her head. "She asked for my help to kill you all…" She holds her breath, but Elijah doesn't seem to be surprised at all. He nods.

"Since she knew about the side effects of turning us into vampires she regretted what she did. She wanted us to survive, to be stronger than the werewolves, not turning us into blood sucking, murderous monsters."

"I'm really sorry to interrupt your friendly chit chat, but what kind of help could she ask _you_ for?" Rebekah pipes in sharply, anger and curiosity mixed in equal measure in her features. Elena prepares for the revelation, but before she can utter a word, Damon cuts in, turning to face her, raising his hand to stop her from talking.

"Don't even say it. It's your blood, am I right? She needs your blood for a spell or something…" he says resigned, and at the sight of her reaction he lets out an unhappy chuckle. "I knew it. We never will get rid of people using you as a human blood bag, will we?"

He pushes himself to his feet, paces over to the liquor table and pours bourbon into a tumbler. He gulps down the half of it, pauses for a moment and then he knocks back the rest. He tightens his grip on the tumbler, and Elena sees his knuckles turning white until the sound of shattering glass startles her out of her momentarily stupor. She wants to go to him, taking some of the tension away from him, but she remains seated. She can't. Not after what happened last night, not before she could fix it.

"What kind of a spell?" Elijah draws their attention.

Elena swallows. "A spell to bind all of her children together, so that killing one means killing them all."

"Will you give her your blood then?" Rebekah asks, and her voice doesn't sound as confident as it usually does.

Elena turns her head to gaze at her. "I already did" she admits quietly.

The blonde vampire sucks in a deep breath, and her eyes meet those of her brother. "And all that only to get rid of Klaus…" she says in a tight voice.

From the corner of her eyes Elena sees Damon shifting slightly, and she feels her stomach turning into a knot at the thought of what she hasn't told them yet, and again fear creeps through her veins. She watches him turning to look at Rebekah, and by the look in his eyes Elena can tell that he's worried; she doesn't want to think about what that means. She doesn't even want to see it, so she averts her eyes.

Suddenly she discerns a gush of wind, and she sees Damon standing in front of the couch she's sitting on.

"What aren't you telling us, Elena?" He studies her face warily, and as he sees fear glowing in her eyes for a second, he knows instantly that he's on to something.

"Damon…" She stands up and reaches out for him, but he steps back, raising his hands in a defending gesture to keep her distant. She stands frozen for a second; she knows, she should've expected that after what had happened last night, but she didn't.

"What aren't you telling us?" he asks again, urging this time, and his eyes are flashing with anger.

She looks him straight in the eyes to overcome the insecurity paralyzing her. "Matt noted something that Esther said when I told him what happened. She…maybe she doesn't want to kill only her family. She said that she wanted to undo the evil she created. Strictly speaking it's all vampires…" She trails off, keeping their eyes locked, and now undeniable fear is emanating off of her.

Damon gazes at her, and suddenly he understands why she's so frightened today. He wondered why she was so concerned about the original family all of a sudden, what could have changed her mind overnight after giving the witch her blood to kill them. Certainly not him hooking up with a member of them. Now he knows. She's simply scared to lose even more people in her life. Caroline, Tyler, Stefan and…himself. As much as she hurt him last night, he knows that she doesn't want to lose him. He feels compassion rising for the girl in front of him, at war now with the anger born out of hurt still raging inside. His hand rises to cup her cheek of its own volition, but in the middle of the movement he decides otherwise and lets it slump down again. _Maybe that's the problem_… He can't. Still, even without touching her he sees her trembling.

"Damon, we can't let that happen…," she whispers, and he thinks that he has never before seen her so close to an emotional breakdown as now, not even after Stefan's stunt on Wickery Bridge. Everything that happened to her always seemed to make her stronger, but now…the thought of losing four people she cares about at once, after having lost so many of them already, nearly breaks her apart.

And for now, the compassions wins; he just wants to be there for her, wants to envelop her trembling body with his arms and hold her tight. But he thinks about last night, recalls the moment she said those words, at the expression her eyes on him held, and he can't. It feels like a cheap payback, but it isn't. To be honest, he has to muster all his strength not to run away; as hurt as he is at the moment, he can't handle her emotions, and he feels terrible about it. He feels as if he fails her. All he is capable of is staying with her, giving her his presence.

"We won't," he whispers back, and then, still holding her gaze, firmly repeats, "We won't."

She sees his internal struggle, and with a sigh she closes her eyes; and she wonders whether he will ever understand that she never thought he'd be caring too much.

(She thinks that all she wishes for right now is for him to understand just how much she cares.)

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><p>.<p>

The moment Caroline wants to leave the house the door bell rings. She curiously opens the door; who could it be, on a Sunday morning, that early at that?

When she sees who stands on her porch, she curses herself inwardly for not having left ten minutes earlier.

"Good morning" he greets her with his velvety voice, and as much as she hates herself for it, it gives her goose bumps.

"Klaus" she manages to let out. His eyes flicker over her bare arms, and his brows furrow in concern. Caroline vaguely wonders whether he thinks she has goose bumps because she's afraid of him, but she doesn't see any necessity to clear it up.

"Are you heading out?" he asks, and she thinks she sees a trace of disappointment appear in his face.

She nods. "Yes, I am. I have to buy some things for my mom. Sorry," she adds when she realizes that she sounded snippy.

He flashes her a wide smile. "Mind my company?" he asks, but he doesn't quite give her an opportunity to say yes, or no for that matter; instead he gently takes her by her elbow and steers her toward his car. When she opens her mouth to protest he cuts her short. "I have to buy some things for my mom too." His eyes sparkle with amusement, but a pleading look lies beneath it.

And despite herself, Caroline feels her lips curling to a smile.

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><p>.<p>

"So one of us has to be killed after Mother has performed the spell that binds us together." Elijah is as calm as always. Elena wonders how he still can be so composed; he just learned that their own mother wants to kill all of her children, and still he talks about it as calmly as other people talk about what they ate for breakfast. "That would be Finn, I assume. He was up to something with Mother, I saw that."

"Wait, you think he's going to sacrifice himself?" Damon shudders at this thought. Being the sacrificial lamb to save people you love is one thing, and it is definitely not a foreign concept to him anymore; but to die in order to enable your mother to kill your siblings? Damon exchanges a glance with Elena, and he sees his feeling of disgust mirrored in her face.

Rebekah sighs. "Yeah, Finn is…special. He always was…"

Damon turns to Elena again. "Do you know what will happen with your blood?" he asks reluctantly.

"Esther laced the champagne with it…"

"Thus we have come full circle…" Elijah quips, ironically arching his brows.

"And we all drank it already? Great…" Rebekah snorts. "So we're just waiting now to what, explode? Vanish? Decompose?"

They all startle when suddenly Elijah begins to laugh, a sound so unexpected that Damon wonders if the original has, after a thousand years, eventually lost his mind.

It stops as quickly as it began, but still smiling he turns to Elena. "It is a good thing then that you are such a terrible liar."

Elena stares at him for a moment, and then it dawns on her. "You mean…"

He finishes the sentence for her. "I didn't drink it."

"But I saw you drinking…"

"No, you saw me feigning to drink. You were nervous. Of course you had every reason to be nervous in this house; nothing good came to you from my family up to now. But you had already been with my mother. You should have felt relieved if she only apologized." He takes a sip from his bourbon. "But you weren't. You still were nervous, and you watched me very carefully when we were supposed to drink this champagne. When you're around as long as I am, you learn a few things about betrayal." And just now Elena sees, for a split second, a hint of hurt crossing his face, but the next moment it's gone and he smiles again at her and then at his sister. "I didn't drink it. We all are safe for now."

Elena slumps down on the couch she was sitting on before. Relief washes through her veins, and she's grateful for Matt's hand grabbing hers and squeezing it; it keeps her grounded.

She lifts her gaze and meets Damon's; he looks at her and she can almost hear him thinking 'told ya', but he doesn't respond to the smile she casts him. She feels the strong need to talk to him, to try and fix what she has broken. Although her feelings are still a blur, she knows that's what she desperately wishes for, to undo the pain she caused. To explain that she was so caught up in her anger about the need to go behind his back that she was careless with her words. To tell him, that she never meant he cared too much, and even less that he was a liability because of his caring, that in fact she fiercely believes that caring for someone makes people more reliable. She thinks back at that moment, and she can't get rid of the feeling that it sounded like Damon quoted someone when he spat out his answer. She wonders briefly whether Stefan played a role in his brother's reaction to her stupid words, seeing that he was the one with Damon when he came to again. She sighs. Even if so, the one that had said those words had been her, not Stefan.

As if on cue she hears the front door opening, followed by footsteps in the hallway, and seconds later Stefan enters the parlor. He looks surprised at the gathering, but doesn't say a word. He paces to the liquor table and fills a tumbler with bourbon; he takes a sip, saunters over to an armchair and lounges in it. The way he does this makes Elena fidgety; he never acted this way before he became the dick Klaus' compulsion made him, and she hates to see it.

In addition to the annoyance this sight causes, she notices a subtle change in Damon's demeanor; it's always like that now, ever since Stefan came back to Mystic Falls, always when both brothers together are in one room with her; but today it seems to be even worse. And once more Elena wonders what exactly Stefan has said to Damon last night. She searches for Damon's eyes, but he averts them from her.

"What did I miss?" Stefan drawls, and Elena gets even more annoyed at his tone. She tries again to catch Damon's eyes, but they are transfixed on his brother. "You knew," Damon asserts quietly, and she sees the hurt boiling in his body again. "You knew already what Mama Original did." He turns to her then, and betrayal is written all over his face.

Stefan looks up to his older brother and a lazy smile appears on his face. "Of course I did. Someone had to bring her home after all. What I don't understand though…" he trails off and looks to Rebekah and Elijah.

"Of course not. Because you don't know all of it," Elena cuts in, her eyes never leaving the blue ones of the older brother still staring at her. "Matt just figured it out this morning, and we went straight to Damon to fill him in." This is the closest to an apology she gets out with the room full of people watching her. His eyes soften a little before eventually he breaks away.

Elijah chimes in at this point, telling Stefan everything they know. The younger Salvatore lets out a snort at hearing the newest revelation and turns to Elena.

"Wow, great job, Elena. How could you miss _this_?" he asks reproachfully.

Elena feels anger rising up in her throat. "What?" she snaps back. "How could _you_ miss it? I told you the exact same thing I told Matt, so you had the same opportunity to figure it out as he had!" She glares at him, but he glances back completely unfazed; his coldness fuels her anger even more, until she suddenly gets it why he's behaving like a dick again. He let her see too much last night; now he has to push her away again. (It works.) She takes a step back and turns toward Elijah. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Gazing around, the Original takes his time. Without saying a word he paces over to the liquor table and refills his meanwhile empty glass with bourbon. After taking a sip he remains standing there, silently, obviously contemplating the situation. With his back still turned toward the others, he starts to speak after a while, and now Elena can hear the sadness in his soft voice. "It seems like a good idea to me to find out if Mother already knows that one of us was only feigning. Maybe she does because she already killed one and the others weren't so kind to magically die…" He swallows. It's rare that Elijah actually has to make an effort to suppress his feelings, and sarcasm usually isn't his piece of cake either, so Elena gets an idea how much pain he's feeling about his mother's deadly betrayal.

"But maybe," he eventually goes on and turns to them, "something happened while casting the spell; or something didn't happen that should have. And we really should know that."

Rebekah looks at him questioningly. "We can't quite go to her and ask her, can we?"

"Of course not," he brushes her off, eliciting a sisterly glare. But before they can start to bicker, Stefan chimes in.

"Elena could."

Five heads turn to him and their faces express different feelings from interest to determination to fury, reaching the edge of hatred.

"Yeah, why not? I could do that." Elena, despite being afraid of meeting Esther again, is glad to be able to help; it's an attempt to make amends for the betrayal she committed on Elijah, and also a way to help keeping her loved ones save.

"Absolutely not." It's Damon of course who intervenes now. He shrugs off Rebekah's hand on his arm trying to placate him, although he knows that in a way, the blonde vampire is right. But he also knows that he is, too. He _knows_ he's being overprotective again, and Elena hates it. However, he can _not_ stand aside and watch them planning another suicide mission. He can't think of any reason to even contemplate doing something stupid like that, and he's not willing to go with it. (He thinks that he has nothing left to lose anyway.) He shoots his brother a glare before turning to Elena. "You're not going into the lion's den once again! Esther thinks she doesn't need you anymore; if she gets suspicious or, I don't know, bored, she kills you without blinking. Geez, Elena, she wants to kill her own children!" Shooting a killer glance at her, he repeats fiercely, "Absolutely not."

Elena stares at him, and she forgets her wish to fix what she broke last night. He's not even trying to understand her, that's all she's seeing right now.

"You're doing it again!" she snarls at him, flashing him an angry glance. He glares back, and suddenly something snaps in him. He grabs her upper arm, draws her up from the couch and almost violently steers her out of the parlor toward the front door. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Matt stirring, but Rebekah snatches his arm and holds him back, and it's almost as if he can _feel_ the fragile bond between himself and the blonde getting a little stronger for a split second.

His grip around Elena's arm doesn't loosen until he has dragged her through the door and out of earshot; he doesn't need an audience.

When it feels as if they are far enough away, he forcefully turns her to face him, then he lets her go with a sudden movement, as if she's burning him. She's shooting daggers at him, but she remains quiet. She doesn't have to wait for long.

"What am I doing again, Elena?" He fumes, and she thinks that it's been a long time since she has seen him so angry. That doesn't sooth _her_ angry feelings though.

"You're disrespecting me again!" she shouts at him, involuntarily stepping closer to him.

"What, I'm disrespecting you because I'm trying to hold you back from jumping into a suicide mission? Because I care too much? You were the one who taught me to care, hell, who _forced_ me to care, no matter what it cost me and if I even wanted to. And all of a sudden I'm the one being a liability because I care too _much_?"

"I never said you were a liability. I'm just saying you're not respecting my decisions! I know exactly what I'm doing, and I know the risk. But you won't let me do what I feel I have to do; you don't even hear me out! You're just playing the white knight again!"

"Because you're making stupid decisions that inevitably put you in mortal danger!" he shoots back, and the rage pushes him forward, closer to her. He can feel the heat emanating off of her now. "And why would I even hear you out? Would you ever change your mind? Would you even have considered changing your mind yesterday?"

"Of course not!" she snaps, curling her hands to fists. "It had to be done, Damon, and I was the only one who could do it. She wanted to see _me_, just me."

"And look where your stubbornness has gotten us. Rebekah…"

"The evil blood slut" she can't help but spit out.

He stares at her incredulously. "It's about Rebekah now?"

She feels her blood flooding her cheeks, and according to his narrowing eyes he sees it instantly.

He lets out an angry laughter. "What, you're jealous, Elena?"

"No," she answers a little too quickly, "of course not. It didn't take you long to jump into her arms after her being un-daggered, though…"

In a flash, he has her pinned against the next tree, bracing his hands on both her sides. "This is about me having sex with Rebekah, Elena?" he glares at her, and then his face changes; he leans in, bringing his lips to her ears. "If you want me to have sex with you, all you have to do is ask" he murmurs seductively, yet the lingering violence never leaves him completely. She knows he can hear her heartbeat picking up the pace. He pulls back a little, just enough to watch her face, observing her reaction, and for a second she can see a shiver of delight in his eyes at what he detects, but it's gone before she can be sure about it. "But other than Rebekah, you can't have that without me loving you, I'm sorry for that _problem_" he says hoarsely, his eyes scanning her face; suddenly he pushes himself back, letting her go, taking a few steps back to put some space between them again.

She breathes in deeply, not sure if she feels relieved or disappointed now.

When Damon speaks again, his voice is back to normal as is his facial expression. "What is your problem with me having sex with Rebekah?"

"I don't have any problem with it," Elena answers not completely honest, and she adds quietly, "Not with you having sex with her…"

His eyes narrow a fraction, nearly imperceptibly, as he studies her face. "She's not an evil blood slut, you know? She gave me more last night than just angry sex." He doesn't know why he feels the need to explain himself, but he surely didn't expect her reaction to his revelation. He sees tears springing to her eyes before she chokes them back, and something else, a feeling he can't quite decipher, but its hotness proves the calmness of her words a lie.

"That's what makes it a problem for me."

His breath catches in his throat, and his face falls. He stares at her for a moment, biting on his bottom lip, not knowing how to react as hope and anger are at war inside of him. Only for a brief moment, though; the hope fades away quickly. He knows it's pointless, he has learned his lesson. "What, suddenly I'm allowed to care again?" he asks, his calm voice contradicting the turmoil in his eyes. She opens her mouth to object, but he doesn't let her. "Don't do that," he says, "I can't handle it anymore. And I don't want to." He swallows hard. "Stop playing games. I'm done with being played. Leave me alone, Elena." And with these words he turns around and storms off, leaving her behind, utterly confused and…hurt.

And while her eyes follow him as he disappears into the wood, she thinks that this certainly wasn't the right way to fix what she has broken last night. It feels more as if she stomped on the pieces, turning them unfixable.

(She feels pieces of her heart falling away bit by bit.)

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><p>.<p>

So, that's it for today. All that talking...I hope it wasn't boring. But it had to be done.

If you had wished for more Delena, sorry...But fear not...it will come. One day...:-)

As usual, don't forget to push the blue button below...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

A/N: WOW, I got so many alerts, favs and wonderful reviews! You guys really made my days...! A special thanks to those I couldn't answer individually...

So, here it goes, the third part; but be warned, this chapter suffers from accute lack of Damon...I hope there's still enough to make up for it...

Kymberleii - just...thank you!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

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><p>.<p>

Bonnie throws the tea bag into the bin and grabs her mug filled with steaming tea. She is on her way to settle on the couch with a book and snuggle in a blanket when the doorbell rings. Slightly irritated she turns her head to look at the door; she doesn't expect anyone. She knows her mother is shopping and her dad is visiting his boring family again; so who could it be interrupting her lazy Sunday morning? She furrows her brows with worry and apprehension makes her stomach jittery; which catastrophe is beginning to show its ugly face now? Bracing herself to hear bad news, she places her mug on the table beside the couch and hesitantly walks to the front door to open it.

When the door swings open, she sees a blonde woman standing there who is examining her, and she instinctively backpedals, but then reason regains control and she holds her ground. She never saw the woman before, but she knows instantly who it is; she can sense the immense power emanating off of her. She stares back and waits.

She doesn't have to wait for long. "You are Bonnie Bennet, I assume." Even her voice sounds powerful, and Bonnie has to fight back the urge to step further away from her and to close the door to put some sort of protection between them; she straightens and forces herself to answer.

"Who wants to know?"

"You're a descendant of a very good friend of mine. Her name was Ayana, and she was a very powerful witch." The woman still stares at Bonnie, scanning her face now. "You know who I am. My name is Esther. I am responsible for a lot of those problems the witches had to fight against for the better part of a thousand years. I am here to repair the damage I have done, and I need your help."

Bonnie studies her face, trying to find out whether or not Esther is being entirely honest with her. The younger witch is inclined to trust another witch on principle; then again, most of the other witches she met until now had betrayed her or worked against her after all. However, Esther's facial expression is unfathomable, and Bonnie finds herself being intimidated, if not a little scared of her. She's not willing to let the other woman keep the upper hand though, so her tone becomes challenging when she speaks again.

"What does that mean, 'repair the damage you've done'? You mean you want to kill Klaus, right?"

Esther nods, and then she finally quits scrutinizing Bonnie; tilting her head briefly toward the street, she suggests, "Maybe we shouldn't discuss this on your porch."

Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but she knows she doesn't stand a chance to successfully refuse to accomplish Esther's desire, so she steps back, waving her hand in an inviting gesture. She leads her guest into the living room, and signaling her to have a seat she asks, "I just made some tea; would you like to have some, too?"

Esther shakes her head. "No, thank you. Our conversation won't take long."

They both sit down, Esther on the couch, Bonnie on an armchair across; she doesn't feel like sitting side by side with the original witch, she prefers to have her in sight.

Esther cuts right to the chase now. "To answer your question: yes, I will kill Niklaus; but not just him. All of my children have done horrible things over the past thousand years. I never should've turned them into vampires in the first place. To correct my mistake, I linked them together with a spell; if one gets killed, they all will die."

Bonnie gasps; they could get rid of the original vampires all at once? Briefly the image of Elijah flits across her mind, but she pushes it back. He betrayed them, too. After all, it's his fault that Klaus is still alive and stronger than ever. If this is the price to pay to finally defeat Klaus, who had brought so much pain to all of them, so be it.

She takes a deep breath. "What do you need me to do?"

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><p>.<p>

Elijah throws a side glance toward his sister when he pulls into the driveway of the Mikaelson mansion. Shutting the engine off, he turns to her to watch her warily. She doesn't seem to be nervous at all, but that's not really what he expected her to be. The opposite is what he's afraid of; he thinks that she might be too careless. She's much too impulsive to hold back her true feelings, and right now she is beyond angry not only at their mother, but also at Finn, and he doesn't really trust her to be capable of hiding her anger. But she promised to behave, and he couldn't quite tie her up in the boarding house to keep her away from the part of their family that is willing to murder them all. So he just tosses her a warning glance, and then they get out of the car.

They decided to leave Elena out of it for the time being; Elijah was the first to acknowledge that Damon was right. It was too big of a threat for her to justify taking that risk. He bewilderedly noted that Stefan, who had been the one whose proposal it had been to send Elena into the lion's den in the first place, now seemed to be relieved that they all decided against it. Elijah feels that he is still missing some information about the twisted relationship between the Salvatore brothers and the doppelganger, but he has the strong hunch that nobody really understands it, including the three of them.

He shrugs his shoulders and follows Rebekah, who is already on her way to enter the house.

Once they are inside, it takes only a few moments until a mocking voice tears their attention to the staircase.

"Oooh, our dear sister got laid last night! I can sense it all the way up here. Who was the lucky one, Rebekah? Was it the dashing human, what was his name again, Matt?"

"Shut up, Kol!" Rebekah shoots him a killing glance. She has no intention of telling her brother that Matt rejected her. Grateful for the distraction, because she has even less intention to listen to Kol sneering about her having been with Damon, she hears Elijah piping up.

"Is Mother at home?"

"Nope. Busy mom is out. And before you ask, I don't know where she is. She never tells me about her plans." Kol rolls his eyes.

Elijah raises one brow. "What makes you think that she actually has any _plans_?"

"She's Mother," Kol says grinning, "she always has. The smell of sage in the parlor? She has secrets. You don't believe the crap she's telling us, do you?"

"Don't you?" Elijah asks back, eyeing his youngest brother carefully.

Kol stares at him incredulously. "You're kidding me, right? Do I believe Mother wants us to be a family again? Of course not! She always hated what we became, what she made us, and that will never change. Forgiving Niklaus for killing her? She will never do such thing."

Rebekah cringes inwardly, but the sheer presence of Elijah prevents her from reacting to Kol's words. She looks at the eldest and sees him nodding once.

"I think you might be right, Kol," he concedes. "What plans do you think she could have?"

Kol just shrugs. "Kill us?" he suggests airily and the grin reappears on his face. "I don't know, brother, and to be honest – I don't care. We're not that easy to be killed, and I guess her priority lies on killing Nik. And since he's a pain in the ass…" He shrugs once more, signaling with this gesture that he couldn't care less about killing his brother. He descends the stairway and strolls toward the front door.

"You're heading out?" Elijah asks.

Kol sighs exaggeratedly. "I need a drink. You want to accompany me, brother? You could probably also use a drink or two. Would maybe help you to lighten up a little. You come?"

Elijah smiles at him, and suddenly Kol smiles back, and Rebekah briefly wonders about the special bond between the two brothers, the oldest and the youngest, despite their entirely different personalities. "No thanks." Elijah shakes his head. "Is Finn home?"

"No. He is running an errand for Mother. You just missed him." He goes on striding to the front door. On passing Rebekah, he slows down a bit, breathes in deeply through his nose and whispers, "Salvatore. _Rebekah_!" He raises his brows, and then he gives her a mischievous grin and disappears through the doorway.

"So I was not the only one distrusting Mother," Elijah mutters.

Rebekah watches him, and she seems a little insecure. "What do we do now?"

"At least she probably doesn't know yet." Elijah watches his little sister, and he can't help but feeling protective about her. He gently places his hand on her upper arm. "We just wait."

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><p>.<p>

Caroline hauls herself into the passenger's seat of Klaus' car and sighs.

For the last hour and a half, they've been to several shops together, buying the supplies she needed for her mom and then getting some items that his mother has asked for.

It's eerie how…normal it feels.

She hates the hybrid, she really does; he killed her best friend and her best friend's aunt without blinking, to get an advantage he didn't really need. He turned Tyler into a hybrid, risking his death in the process, just to prove something. He holds his first hybrid on a short leash, just because he can. He made him _bite_ her! Just to shame him, to demonstrate how strong this leash really is. Just like the whippings on slaves for the tiniest objection. He threatens everyone she cares about and destroys everything he touches.

She hates him.

And yet…

She can't help but feel…good when she is with him. Part of her at least. Sure, it flatters her that he _fancies_ her; she can't deny it.

But that's only a part of it, and she knows it. He's gorgeous, he's charming, and he's funny. He also presents his vulnerable side when he is with her, and she's sure that he's not putting on a show. He's not a cheater. He never needs to cheat to get what he wants; he just takes it.

He could easily take her, too. He can compel vampires, after all. He could even make her love him.

But that's not what he wants.

He wants it to be her decision to like him. He wants the feeling to be real.

He doesn't want a puppet to play with; for some reason not with her.

So he goes down the old fashioned way.

And he's doing it just fine…

Sometimes, for a brief moment, he actually makes her forget what a monster he is, without using compulsion. Just sometimes. Still…

Caroline tosses him a furtive side glance, and she sees a slight smile curling his lips. And it's not the usual amused smile like when he's gloating about one of those little monstrous things he does to make people's lives complicated and miserable.

It's just a smile.

And it causes a shiver to run down her spine, because she realizes that she begins to see fragments of the human man he might have been a thousand years ago.

The worst is – she likes what she discovers.

She turns her attention to the road again, and she realizes that it's not the road to her house anymore. In fact, they're leaving Mystic Falls. A trace of panic causes her stomach to flutter slightly, but only for a second. Then she successfully reminds herself that Klaus likes her, and that she's sure he won't hurt her. Not now. She's not so sure about that for eternity, because she has no clue about how he will react when one day he realizes that she will never…love him. She doesn't even know if that is what he wants from her. But sometimes, when he thinks she isn't paying attention, she briefly sees a longing flaring in his eyes…a longing not for her body, but for her soul…

She has to stop this train of thoughts, for now at least. She can't afford to be distracted when she's with him. For many reasons.

She turns to face him. "Why are you doing this?" she asks calmly.

His eyes narrow a fraction, and for a long moment it's the only sign that he heard her question. Then he looks at her, scanning her face just for two or three seconds, and turns his focus to the road again.

"I'm making good on a promise I made you."

Caroline doesn't answer to that. She knows what he's talking about. Although he never used the word, he _did_ promise her the world. She nods wordlessly.

And stunned she realizes that she's excited to see where he might bring her.

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><p>.<p>

Elena sits cross legged on her bed, staring at the cell phone in her hand, not knowing what to do next.

She tried to reach Damon on his cell countless times; sometimes leaving a message, asking him to call her back because they needed to talk, and sometimes not. He never called. She knows he's dodging her calls; yet, the knowledge doesn't diminish the vague worry that is nagging at her. She went to the boarding house, but it was empty. She looked for him at the Grill – nothing. She called Alaric, who was grading papers at school, but he hadn't heard from him either.

She called Stefan, too. He only told her that he was busy right now, and that she shouldn't worry about Damon; he probably just needed some space after their quarrel.

It didn't help the slightest to set her mind at ease.

She also can't reach either Caroline or Bonnie, and both their cells go straight to voicemail, which makes her worry increase to full blown fear. Something's going on here; all three of them are usually reliable to pick up their phones.

She scrolls through the names on her cell, looking for someone she could still ask about Damon's whereabouts, and her finger hesitantly hovers over the name of someone she doesn't want to call at all. To be honest – this is the very last person she wants to ask for help; but it's her only chance to do something other than sitting on her bed and waiting. Considering the pros and cons for a few moments, eventually her worry wins the fight, and she taps on the name to dial the chosen number.

The voice answering her call sounds as snippy as Elena expected. "Now why would the traitorous doppelganger bitch call me?"

Elena suppresses an annoyed response; she needs her help, after all. "Rebekah, do you know where Damon is? I can't find him…"

"You don't say; isn't he jumping when you say 'jump' any more? Have you lost your lap dog? I can't imagine how distraught you must feel now," Rebekah taunts, and Elena can hear the joy the vampire's feeling with poking fun at her misery. She takes a deep breath, trying not to snarl at Rebekah, because part of her understands the blonde's anger about the backstabbing; but apologizing for that act is not of any priority on her list of things she has to fix. Not now.

"Could you be serious for a second? I'm really worried; he's neither answering my calls nor my texts. It's not like him to not even bother to pick up." _No_, _he has way too much fun in provoking me with his cocky one-liners…_

"Well, maybe you should finally start reconsidering your behavior toward him before he realizes that you're not worth all that trouble he puts himself through."

Elena sits dumbstruck for a while before she swallows down her anger and makes a last attempt. "Rebekah, please, I'm really concerned…"

"Your problem, not mine." With these words Rebekah hangs up. Elena stares at her phone before throwing it on her bed, sighing exasperated. She curls her fingers into fists, but it's nothing more than a gesture of helplessness.

And then all is left for her to do is sit and wait. The longer she waits for any sign that he's still alive, the more scared for him she gets. All she can think about is that she still hasn't apologized; and when the thought that it might be too late begins to sneak into her mind, she's not capable of pushing this disturbing image aside and distracting herself.

With a twinge of pain she realizes that the one she relied on for months, the one she turned to about nearly everything causing her problems, can't be there for her now, because he's the one who's missing.

(She didn't know just how much she needs him.)

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><p>.<p>

They meet Finn at a small clearing in the woods. Bonnie and Abby don't recognize the place; it's a part of the woods they never have been before. No path leads to the clearing; they have to bash their way through the brushwood.

Bonnie sneaks a furtive glance at the Original she hasn't seen until now. He appears calm and composed; no sign of nervousness is visible, even though he came here to die in order to give his life for the greater good. And to kill three brothers and one sister in the process; that's the part Bonnie doesn't understand. She can comprehend that one is willing to sacrifice their life for saving those of many others; but to sacrifice their siblings with them? Bonnie has seen enough of the relationship between Elena and Jeremy to understand that the bond between siblings is a fairly strong one, and the same applies on the Salvatore brothers. Whatever Jeremy would do, Elena would forgive him. Although Stefan felt the need to kill his brother a thousand times, in fact he never could have done that.

And now Finn agreed to kill all four of his still living siblings; Bonnie shakes her head lightly in disbelief. Granted, she doesn't know anything about them, particularly about Finn, and who is she to judge? She is willing to take it as it comes, and glad to be able to help bring down Klaus. Finally! If this guy is willing to die for it and take his brothers and sister with him – so be it. It's nothing of her concern…

Suddenly she realizes that Abby, who is standing beside her, is pretty nervous. She didn't want to come with her to begin with; but Esther explained them, that she needed to channel the power of the entire Bennet witches blood line, the living and the dead, to be able to cast the spell that was supposed to kill Finn and those he is linked with. She promised that she meant them no harm, and Bonnie believed her. (She wants to trust her.) After an argument that went down more severely than intended, Bonnie convinced her mother to help; yet, she is obviously intimidated now and a little frightened, too.

Bonnie lays her hand on her mother's arm in a reassuring gesture, and when their gazes meet she smiles at her. "It's okay," she mouths, "we're gonna kill Klaus…" Abby nods.

Bonnie now turns her attention to Esther, who started preparing everything for the spell. She has a sack in her hands and holds it with it's opening downward to let whatever's inside flow out. Bonnie steps closer to have a better view.

"Is that salt?" she asks curiously. Esther nods.

"Yes. It'll help me in channeling your power. As you can probably see I'm drawing a pentagram with it; a pentagram is a very powerful symbol, it will help to draw your power out and direct it into its center where Finn will wait with me for his fate." She tosses her son a look that makes Bonnie shiver. She can see that there is gratefulness and also love in it, but the overlaying expression is undoubtedly rigor. Bonnie glances at Finn, and she half expects him to look submissive; still, he doesn't. He holds his head high, and she can only make out determination. He _wants_ that. She sees Abby staring wide eyed at him, and Bonnie is sure that her mother sees the same as she does, and she wonders if she's looking as freaked out as Abby does at the sight of the vampire who is determined to die and take his siblings with him. Like earlier, an image of Elijah crosses her mind, and she briefly has to fight a bad conscience.

It takes Esther only a few more minutes to get ready, and when everything is prepared, she takes her son's hand in hers and catches his gaze.

"Are you sure about this, Finn?" she asks him quietly.

He looks her straight in the eyes and nods. "You know that I am, Mother. I've been waiting for this since you unintentionally made us into the monsters we are." He takes a deep breath, kisses his mother on her cheek and smiles. "I'm ready."

She nods, too. Then she glances at the Bennet witches, who are standing outside of the pentagram's surrounding circle. "Hold hands, close your eyes and focus on my son," she instructs them, and they do as they are told.

And at the exact moment when the last rays of sun are fading away from the leaves in the branches above, she begins chanting, casting the spell to kill all of her children.

Bonnie can feel the power flowing through her; she knows that feeling well, she was empowered a lot more until the dead witches cut her off for bringing Jeremy back. But she hears Abby breathing in sharply, and she feels her hands trembling at the unknown sensation that the huge amount of power induces; she squeezes her mother's hands to calm her down; they are not allowed to lose their focus now.

And then, all of a sudden, something changes. Bonnie feels as if something heavy hits her, and the tremor of the impact runs through her body, until every bone and every muscle aches and shivers. She hears Abby screaming in horror, and she discerns dimly that her mother let go of her as if her hands were on fire. And then she smells burning flesh, and she wonders if she really _is_ burning. She opens her eyes, and what she sees curdles her blood; in the center of the pentagram stands Finn, burning with high flaring fire, held by the strong arms of his mother despite the flames licking at her body; but she doesn't burn, no matter how long she holds him. And against the roaring of the blazing flames she continues to loudly chant her spell. Bonnie sees the despair in her face, and she knows instantly something is going terribly wrong. Then suddenly the fire is gone, and with it Finn disappears. The chanting is cut off by a shrill shriek emitting from Esther's mouth, and she slumps down to the ground. Bonnie knows without a doubt that the original witch is dead.

And with that last thought in her mind her world goes black.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

When the doorbell rings, Elena flies down the steps and flings the door open in a rushed movement, fiercely hoping that it's Damon, although she knows better; he doesn't ring the doorbell; he always knocks.

Disappointment flits over her features at the sight of Bonnie on her porch.

"Hey," she greets lamely and steps back to let her friend in. Bonnie goes past her to the living room and sits down on the couch, and Elena has the weird feeling as if something is off. "You okay?"

"Everything's fine," Bonnie confirms, and again Elena feels odd; the way Bonnie said those words rings a bell, but she can't quite put her finger on what it reminds her. She eyes her warily.

"You want some coffee?" she asks, but Bonnie shakes her head.

"No, thanks, it won't take long. I just need you to give me something."

Elena still can't explain why it is, but she feels fear creeping through her veins, and she learned to trust her instincts during the last few months; she involuntarily takes a step back. "What do you need?"

Bonnie turns her head and catches Elena's eyes with an icy glance, causing a shiver to run down her spine. All her instincts switch on flight mode, but she stays. "Esther came over earlier. Something with the blood you gave her last night went wrong, and she needs some more. She asked me to fetch it for her. So, would you please give me some more of your blood?" She rises from the couch and walks toward Elena, and suddenly a dagger twinkles in her hand.

And right now Elena knows what is wrong with Bonnie. She saw this once, months ago.

It's not Bonnie.

It's Esther in her living room.

Esther in Bonnie's body.

Panic floods Elena's body, and she knows it's written all over her face. She sees Bonnie's expression turn to determination as she immediately begins chanting, and the next thing she is aware of is that she can't move anymore. Not a single inch.

She topples to the floor like a wooden board, and the last words she hears before the witch drags her out of the house and into Bonnie's car are laced with regret.

"I hoped it wouldn't have to be this way; but I can't afford the risk of you betraying me once again. I'm really sorry, Elena."

And with that the car door is thrown shut.

(She's all alone.)

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><p>.<p>

A/N: So, you probably recognized parts of the ritual, that wasn't planned yet...(even though I totally had a salt pentagram like that in The Longest Night, too! Ha!)

As usual, don't forget to tell me what you think...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

A/N: Whoa! Such a great response! You guys rock! Thank you so much all of you, particularly those I couldn't PM...

I'm sorry I'm not able to update every 3-4 days like I did with the first fic; I neglected everything else back then, including my kids. I can't do this again, so I'll try to stick with once a week. I know, waiting sucks, still...oh well.

Kymberleii - you know what...:-)

For now, enjoy!

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 4**

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><p>.<p>

After a short 30 minutes ride, just before they'd reached another town, Klaus pulls over and parks the car on the roadside in front of a small, nondescript house. He gets out of the car and hurries to the passenger's side to help her out, but Caroline is faster. For some reason she needs to show him that he didn't win her over completely. (She needs to convince herself.) She sees his eyes glinting briefly, and she knows, he sees right through her.

She sighs. If she fails in her attempt to maintain her distance anyway, she might as well take his offer to lay her hand in the crook of his bent arm. As she does so, she discerns another glint in his eyes, and this time it stays a little longer, and it's simply joy.

She knows that she made a mistake, but for now she lets it slide.

They step up to the house, and Klaus uses the knocker. When the door opens, a tiny old lady opens the door. At the sight of the man on her doorstep a broad smile appears on her face.

"Mr. Niklaus!" she greets him euphorically, "What a nice surprise! It's been years since you've been here. Come inside!" She steps aside to let him in, but he hesitates.

"May I first introduce you to my friend Caroline? Caroline," he turns to her now, "this is Mrs. Marie Brown, a very dear old friend of mine. She brews the best coffee in the world." He turns back to the lady and gives her a bright smile, and with a pang Caroline recognizes the sincereness of his smile; he genuinely likes this woman.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Caroline. Come inside, please." They enter the house, and Mrs. Brown leads them into her kitchen. She invites them to sit down at the small table and offers to make some of her fabulous coffee, which they accept delightedly after their shopping tour. While their host busies herself with coffee beans and an old looking kettle with boiling water in it, sitting on an ancient coal range, Caroline lets her gaze wander through the kitchen. It's the homiest kitchen she has ever seen, with antique looking furniture stuffed with antique looking cooking utensils, and belatedly she notices that the house doesn't seem to have access to electricity.

Mrs. Brown catches her bewildered expression and giggles. "You small fry can't imagine that one can live like that, can you?" She pauses and turns serious then, looking slightly irritated. "You _are_ still young, right?" she asks cautiously, and Caroline nods quickly.

"I'm 18, Ma'am." She casts Klaus a questioning glance, and he grins at her.

"Oh, Mrs. Brown knows about my little secret, right, Mrs. Brown?" He throws the old lady a seductive smile and she giggles again, and Caroline is sure to see her wrinkly cheeks lightly flushing. "We've known each other for more than 60 years now; at some point I needed to tell her why I wasn't growing any older."

Caroline nods again and puts a spoon full of sugar in her cup of coffee that has been served meanwhile, stirring the steaming liquid for a while, relishing the delicious smell. When she carefully tastes the hot coffee, she has to concede that it's really the best coffee she ever drunk.

After ten minutes of an airily flowing conversation mainly between Klaus and Marie, he rises to his feet and signals Caroline to come with him. "May I take the liberty of showing Caroline the room now?" he addresses his old friend, who tilts her head as a sign of acceptance.

"You know the way, Mr. Niklaus. I'll remain seated for a while and grant my old legs some rest. Feel free to show her everything you want to."

Klaus gently takes Caroline's elbow. Too late it registers that she should have shrugged him off; she has seen too much of his human side today to realize in time that it's still _Klaus._ Now she can as well let him lead her out of the kitchen across the hallway, entering another room. It's dark inside, and she notes surprised that the room doesn't have any windows. Klaus lets go of her and steps to the opposite wall, unwinding a cord from a double hook, leading to a chandelier equipped with a lot of candles. He lets it slowly sinking down, and then he grabs a lighter from a small table placed underneath the hooks and begins to light the candles.

She watches him silently until he lifts his gaze to meet hers and grins. "Yes, my lovely, I've done something like that thousands of times, only that I used to do it without being so lucky to possess a lighter." It's exactly the answer to the question she had in mind watching him, and she can't help but grin back. She forces herself to break the connection of their eyes then and looks around, and she gasps.

She has never seen a room like that. Apart from the small table there is no furniture at all, and yet it is the most impressive room she has ever been in. The walls are entirely plastered with drawings of every size and every color and every style. None is akin to any other, and she is so overwhelmed by her first impression that she barely notices that Klaus quietly comes beside her. She lets her eyes slowly wander over the walls, until her gaze is drawn to one picture, and she steps closer to have a better look at it. It's painted in oil, approximately 15 inches high and three times as broad, and it shows the view on a lake in dull weather. A small catwalk without a railing leads in from the beholder's point of view, and at its end sits the only living being, a lonely sea gull. It's a very simple and yet very impressing painting, and Caroline is surprised that it's not expressing sadness, but only calmness, and she feels astonishingly captured by it.

"You picked out one of my favorites," a velvet voice that is too close to her ear startles her out of her reverie, and she nearly jumps at that, but she catches the movement in time. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is," she concedes reluctantly, and looking around she adds, "What is this place?"

"Marie collected them her whole life all over the country, and some of them are from abroad. I brought her some from Europe over the years and one from Brazil. The artists are all unknown; at least they were when their paintings were bought. A few of them are very successful now." He tilts his head toward the painting Caroline still watches. "This one I found in France."

"You brought it?" Caroline stares at him baffled. "I assume the last owner doesn't miss it…" He just shrugs his shoulders, the hint of a wicked grin curling his lips lightly, his eyes holding a twinkle, and she rolls hers. "But if it's one of your favorites, why didn't you keep it yourself?"

Klaus briefly studies her face, and then he turns his gaze back to the sea. "It was hers from the moment I discovered it. I couldn't have kept it. I don't know, maybe it reminded me at her. She's not always so gigglish, you know? She has a completely different side, more of a melancholy sometimes…"

Caroline nods silently; it's not lost on her that his voice gets softer when he speaks of his friend, and suddenly she thinks she begins to see why he feels drawn to this woman; and not for the first time she wonders, how the hell the man he is right now, the arts loving man with a soft spot for an old lady, could be the same as the monster that she used to know him to be.

And the seed of doubt he planted begins to grow.

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They stay in the room for a long time; Caroline loses track of how long it really is. Every now and then she has to remind herself about who she is with, but the later it gets, the more often she keeps forgetting. They randomly gaze at the pictures that draw their attention; Klaus has a story to tell to each one of them. Some of them he once heard from Mrs. Brown, but mostly he experienced them himself; Caroline unknowingly rarely chooses paintings that hadn't been brought by Klaus.

She is unusually quiet when they eventually leave the house; they say thanks and good bye to the old lady, and Klaus gives Marie a gentle peck on her cheek that has her giggling again.

During the short ride home through the already fallen darkness they don't speak, but it's not an uncomfortable silence.

When he drops her off at her house, she gets out of the car wordlessly. For a second she stands still, her back still turned to the car, her hand lying on the door, waiting for her to turn and close the door. Instead she turns back, glances at the hybrid and says softly, "I really don't know what to do with this, but today…it was…nice." The words 'thank you' are on the verge of falling from her lips, but she catches them the last second.

Before he can utter a word, she throws the door shut. She turns on her heels and almost blurs to her house, gets inside and closes the door behind her.

She leans her back against the next wall and slides down until she sits on the floor.

After a while she hears the car leaving.

She wonders if he knows that she is crying.

(She thinks somehow he does.)

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><p>.<p>

Rebekah finds Damon at the Grill.

When Matt showed up early this morning at her doorstep asking for her help, she was touched despite herself. He put his faith in her, even though he feels a deeply rooted distrust against all the supernatural surrounding him, including her. Granted, apparently he couldn't reach anyone else he could've turned to with his worries, and he was simply too scared for his friends to just let it drop and wait. Still…

What is it with this guy that always tugs at her heart, stirring feelings she doesn't want to feel? He's nothing but a human. A toy, made for her to play with like a cat plays a mouse. Dinner, at best. So why is it that she found herself not wanting to kill him anymore, even though nothing would've made her happier than to anger this annoying doppelganger? Rebekah sighs. Is she really that predictable? A tiny gesture of caring for her and her vampire heart melts? She even _apologized_! To a _human_!

She determinedly shoves those disturbing thoughts aside; she has other things to worry about right now. What Matt told her made her own apprehension increase that nagged already at the back of her mind after Elena called her yesterday. She dismissed the girl's anxiety last night and talked herself into believing that Damon just needed some space. But now? As far as she knows, neither her mother nor Finn came home since the day before. Meanwhile, way too many people are missing, most alarmingly the little witch and the blood donating doppelganger. And Damon.

She isn't exactly looking for him; at least she tries to appease herself with the thought that she needed a drink anyway, but with certain bewilderment she realizes a feeling of relief at his sight. She finds that deep down she's concerned about him, an emotion she almost doesn't recognize; it's been so long since she felt it.

However, it can't hurt to have found him and fill him in on all those MIA's.

She saunters over to the bar where he's sitting and settles on the stool beside him. He doesn't look at her, but he grunts as a form of greeting and briefly closes his eyes; and she knows, he wants her to think she's not welcome company.

She doesn't care.

She doesn't know why, because he always had been an arrogant ass to her until the ball night two days ago, and it's not easy to admit, but she kinda likes him. She saw the pain in his eyes that night, and it's a pain she knows too. Rejected love. Recently they even shared the reason for being rejected; the same girl that is responsible for his pain is also the cause for hers. She just copes better with it than he's able to. On the outside, at least. And probably his love is…deeper. More consuming than hers is.

(It hurts anyway.)

The bartender gives her a questioning look, and she gestures toward Damon, meaning she only needs another glass; they'll share what small rest remains in the bottle he's holding between both hands, leaning his head heavily on its opening.

He throws her a side glance when the bartender brings her just an empty glass and grips the bottle a fraction tighter.

"I'm not sharing." He slurs his words, and Rebekah knows that the bottle must have been full when he started drinking. "I'm done with sharing," he adds quietly, and for a second she contemplates to object, but she decides otherwise.

"Fine," she nods. "Anyway, in about 20 seconds you won't need this anymore." With her chin she points to the bottle.

Eventually he lifts his head and turns it to face her, a trace of wariness appearing on his features. "And why is that?"

"Precious Elena is missing."

For a split second she sees fear flash in his eyes, but then his face shifts to an expression of indifference. "None of my business," he mutters gloomily, taking a sip straight from the bottle to fortify his statement.

Rebekah just laughs at that, but the laughter lacks any humor. "Who are you kidding?" Her face turns serious then. "Is that why you're pretty much sober again all of a sudden?" He squeezes his eyes shut, and she knows he tries to defend himself against the flood of feelings the alcohol washed away for the last 24 hours. She pushes aside the compassion rising up in her; this is not the right time for such things. Suddenly she feels an urgency to act, to do anything to prevent something bad from happening. She takes a deep breath and covers his hand with hers. "I know what you're doing, but feigning not to care anymore doesn't help; I know what I'm talking about. Besides, your damsel in distress might really need your help. She's been missing since yesterday."

Damon gives her an attentive side glance. "What do you care?"

"Trust me, I don't care about her at all; but you do. And she's not the only one missing."

She has his full attention now. "Who else?"

"The little witch can't be found either. And my mother and Finn haven't been seen since we left the boarding house."

Damon can't hide his worry anymore, and he doesn't even try to. "Bonnie? That's not good." He grabs his phone and cringes at the amount of missed calls flashing on the display. And suddenly he realizes that Elena hasn't just given up trying to reach him last night. It's not like her to just give up, he should've known that. Something else must have happened, and fear rolls over him like a tidal wave. Here he sits, drowning his sorrows, nursing his wounds, while hell only knows what happened to her…His fingers fly over the keys, but Elena's phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries Bonnie's number with the same result. "What about Caroline?"

"Matt said he couldn't reach her yesterday, but he didn't try yet this morning."

Damon dials Caroline's number and is relieved that she at least answers with a tired voice. "What?"

"Cover up your lacy underwear, we're going to be over in a minute," he announces, throwing some bills on the counter. He shoves his cell in his pocket, swallows the remains in the bottle down in one gulp, grabs Rebekah's arm, and turns to take off.

And despite the seriousness of the situation Rebekah grins.

Damon's back on track.

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><p>.<p>

Elena wakes up with the feeling of nausea creeping through her body. She remembers that she hit her head hard when she fell on the floor, and she assumes that she is suffering from a mild concussion.

Admittedly, that's the least of her worries right now.

For the umpteenth time she tries to move a muscle. Any muscle. As expected she still can't; not even an eyelid. There are exactly two things left she can carry out willingly – breathe and think.

For a little while she focuses on the first, avoiding to face the turmoil that is her brain at the moment. However, after a few minutes her mind goes its own way. With a frustrated sigh she gives in and tries to arrange the thoughts running wild in her head.

She decides that for starters it would be helpful to know where the hell she is. The cold ground she's lying on feels rough, like somewhere outside, so she's not in a house. But she's quite sure that she's not in the open air either; when Esther spoke to her earlier and rummaged around her it didn't sound like outdoor. So where is she? In the tomb? It's unlikely that Esther even knows about it. A cave? Elena thinks of the caves underneath the Lockwood's property, and she shudders. It's more than just a possibility that there are more of those caverns around Mystic Falls. If so, nobody will ever find her.

She snorts quietly; to know where she is turns out to be not as helpful as she thought. She focuses on what she recalls happening during the time she was held captive.

She knows that Esther brought her somewhere by car, but Elena couldn't tell anything about the ride; it's a blur, because she was fighting to remain conscious all the time. She barely remembers being carried and then laid down on the ground. She heard the witch rumbling around, opening boxes and closing them again, grabbing something and placing it somewhere else.

Then there was the brief stinging pain of a dagger cutting her wrist, and Elena knows that Esther took her blood again.

And it's when it dawns on her; Elena breathes in sharply. _Something with the blood you gave her last night went wrong… _Of course! The spell! Esther must have already cast the spell to murder her children, and something must have gone wrong. And Elena knows exactly what went wrong; Elijah didn't drink the champagne, so the Originals didn't die as they were supposed to. Suddenly she's very grateful for her inability to lie convincingly. They would be all dead by now…she feels her stomach tying into a knot as this thought leads inevitably to Damon. _He_ could be dead by now…

And now Esther has her blood again, Esther in Bonnie's body at that, and Elena lies here, locked away in her own body, unable to move a single muscle. She feels anger bubbling inside about her helplessness. Why, oh why didn't she realize it the moment Bonnie stepped into her house that it wasn't Bonnie? She _knew_ something was off. Still, what could she have done anyway?

And what the hell is she supposed to do now? They are all out there without knowing about the newest developments. Cold fear makes her heart clench. She can't do anything. She briefly thinks of Bill Forbes and his success in overcoming compulsion, but this is not an option for her. It's not about compulsion, it's magic she has to deal with, and she knows there's no way to override the magic by controlling her mind.

She can't do anything. She can just lie here and wait for her rescue.

(Always the damsel in distress.)

And she hates it.

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><p>.<p>

Caroline just managed to pull on a fresh pair of jeans and is still tugging down the hem of her shirt when she moves to open the door Damon is banging on. She steps aside to let him in as he already brushes past her; he doesn't say a word; no teasing comment, no stupid nick name…he's clearly nervous. Caroline's eyes go wide when she realizes who he brought with him, standing at her porch, waiting to be invited in.

"Rebekah," she mumbles irritated. "What the hell…?"

Damon turns to flash her an impatient glance. "You're gonna invite her in or what?" he snaps. Caroline crosses her arms in front of her chest. "No."

He steps closer, glaring at her, intending to intimidate her; but then he lets it drop. There's no need for inviting the Original in, they can talk on the porch as well. And now is not the time to fight a needless battle.

He grabs Caroline's upper arm and steers her through the door. On the porch she shrugs him off. Anger rises up at his behavior, but then she detects something in his eyes that is close to fear, and she knows it's about Elena. He feels this way only about Elena; her anger is replaced by worry within seconds.

"Damon, what's going on?" Her gaze flickers between him and Rebekah, and her anxiety grows to fear when she realizes that even the Original seems to be concerned.

Instead of an answer she gets a counter question. "Have you seen Elena lately?"

"Not since the ball…"

"Dammit!" The hope in Damon's eyes fades away. She looks between him and Rebekah, and she's getting more and more agitated. "What's wrong, Damon?"

"She's MIA. No one has heard from her for more than 18 hours, and no one can reach her on the phone. What about Bonnie?"

"What about Bonnie?" Caroline repeats baffled, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Is she MIA, too?"

"Well, unless you've heard from her since the ball…" Rebekah cuts in.

Caroline pales slightly and shakes her head while dialing the numbers of her two best friends, but as expected both just go to voicemail.

Damon turns toward Rebekah. "It could be Klaus using her as blood bag again…"

To his utter surprise Caroline chimes in before Rebekah can object. "No, it's not him…" When she sees the bemused faces of both vampires turning to her, she feels heat flooding her cheeks.

"Now why would you know that it wasn't Klaus?" Damon interrogates her slowly with arched brows, noticing her now reddened cheeks with even more bewilderment.

Caroline closes her eyes briefly; suppressing her embarrassment, she admits, "Because he was with me yesterday, all day long. He brought me home at about 10 p.m."

"WHAT?" Damon's eyes are blazing with rage now as he closes the short distance between them. He grabs her by her shoulder, and his voice gets a menacing tone. "Bonding with the devil? What are you doing, Caroline?"

"Nothing! I'm doing nothing! I didn't ask him to come here, neither did I beg for his company. I couldn't quite get out of his car and leave him alone…" Even to Caroline's ears her words sound like a cheap excuse, and they do nothing to mollify Damon.

"That's exactly what you should have done. Have you forgotten what he has done to Elena, to Stefan, to _Tyler_, hell, to all of us? He _is_ a monster," he hisses, invading her personal space, his grip on her shoulders tightening.

Caroline raises her chin at that. "You would know…" she can't help but challenging him, although she knows that he's right.

Damon flinches, only a little. "What did he do to seduce you into liking him? Buying you new shoes?" When he sees her skin almost getting crimson now he stares at her incredulously and disgust appears on his features. He lets go of her, so suddenly that the movement pushes her slightly away from him.

Caroline falters. He said out loud all the things she told herself, and she understands his feelings. "Look, I know what he'd done and that he's a monster, Damon, trust me. Still…"

All at once she gets support from an unexpected source. "He's not all bad, you know?" Rebekah steps beside them, placing her hand on Damon's back. "He's not only a monster. He's my brother, Damon. I know he'd done loads of things borderline to be monstrous, and many of them had even been over the line; but so did I, and as I suppose, so did you."

Damon goes completely still at these words. His eyes fall shut and he breathes in and out deeply. Caroline knows, he's thinking of all the bad things he did; she could remind him of a lot…but she keeps quiet. She knows he remembers anyway. And she knows some of them make him cringe today. Those he did to Elena.

(He also thinks of his brother, but she doesn't know that.)

When he's sure to be calm enough again, he reopens his eyes. He doesn't look at Caroline though, he can't. He focuses on Rebekah; but his question clearly includes Caroline.

"Did anyone think about contacting Mom Bennet?" When both blonde vampires shake their heads, he sighs. "Well, does anyone know where she's residing? I think we should pay her a visit."

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><p>.<p>

Swirling the content in his tumbler around pensively, Elijah looks out of the window leading to the magnificent garden Klaus has created in this short amount of time, and he can't help but admire him for the right touch he has with such things. It's the artist in his brother, a part of him Elijah always loved; that made him blind against Klaus' flaws for centuries.

The eldest squares his shoulders. He's not blind now. Not anymore.

He tilts his head upwards, downing his drink in one last gulp, lets the liquid burn down his throat, his eyes latched onto the ceiling for a while. Then he draws in a deep breath and walks over to the stairway. He goes upstairs, single-mindedly once he made this decision, taking his way over to his youngest brother's bedroom. He knocks at the door, without hesitating.

"You're allowed to come in, brother. I'm not naked…"

A small smile plays around Elijah's lips at Kol's words as he enters the room and watches his brother still lying in his bed.

"I have to leave town for a few days to take care of something. I'd be delighted if you accompanied me, would you?"

Kol props himself on his elbows, eyeing Elijah curiously for a little while before rising from his bed, proving his words from earlier a lie when the sheets covering his body glide down and remain on the bed. Elijah just rolls his eyes.

"You and I traveling the world together …that sounds like fun…"

"I take it you are coming with me?" Elijah smiles. "Pack your things then. We're leaving in half an hour."

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Some of you might wonder why Caroline blushes...

She does because her heart beats; I explained what I think once at the end of a chapter of The Longest Night. For those of you who didn't read it, I'll add it here:

'In the show, there are two different statements about it; Elena says in 1#15 "...that he has a heart, even if it doesn't beat", Katherine explains Stefan in the tomb 2#11 about desiccation: "Your heart still beats, struggling to pump whatever blood remains...". I decided to go with Katherine here, also because Damon says in 1#11 that his body functions pretty normal...

Also: Vampires can hear hearts beating. There'd be no point in Katherine pretending to be Elena in front of Vampires, because they would notice the missing heart beats...

Push the button, pretty please...:-)


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

**A/N:** So, this is earlier than expected, right? It's just because this chapter was nearly written when I posted the last one. Don't expect the next one to be earlier too...It can't hurt to bribe me though, with reviews, maybe :-) It's worth a shot, most likely it will push me a little...

Thank you so much for the response to the last ones; all the alerts, favs and particularly the reviews made my day!

Kymberleii, you rock!

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 5**

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><p>.<p>

Strolling through the brush, silently as only a vampire can, Stefan's eyes are scanning the surroundings for any movement.

He'd done that a zillion times, and as always, even though it can't promise him what he really is starving for, it calms him down. Reducing him to his instincts, shutting his brain out for the time being, it grounds him and gives his twirling mind time to recover.

He hears the tiniest crack of a twig, sees the hint of a shift from the corner of his eye and stands frozen in an instant. He turns his head to the direction the sound came from, ever so slowly, and focuses. A deer. Holding its head high, its ears straightened, it stares at the vampire, and the vampire stares right back. They stand like this for quite a while, the predator and his prey, playing the old game of 'who-moves-first?' And then, in the precise moment when the deer realizes that there is no danger to detect and lets its guard down, the vampire leaps forward in a flash, grabs the animal and in one fluent movement snaps its neck. A small, satisfied smile tugs the corners of his lips up; he bends the deer's head aside and, as his fangs emerge, tears the skin apart with his thumbs to get fur free access to a vein. Trying to ignore the fact that this is only a substitute that can't compensate his hunger for human blood, he lets his teeth sink in, drains the deer dry and tosses the corpse aside. He wipes his mouth clean of blood with the back of his hand and licks the blood off of it, and then he stares down at his fingers.

He's not at all satiated, but it has to suffice. He fights against the images of screaming humans fleeing from him briefly whirling through his mind; the real prey. That's it what he is craving for, and with this thought, as usual, his brain resumes work and guilt sets in.

He closes his eyes in annoyance. He really, _really_ doesn't want to feel guilty anymore. It's suffocating; a lot more now than it was all those years ago. Maybe because there are so many new reasons for feeling guilty, maybe just because he experienced the result of a flipped switch for a few weeks. It felt liberating, and it's hard to go down the guilt road again after this taste of freedom from the bad feelings.

Stefan sighs deeply before he turns around to go back to the boarding house.

It's hard, but it's worth it. Actually he can't believe how easy it is this time, and not for the first time he wonders why that is. Last time it took Lexi years to bring him to the point he is already now, after merely a few days.

Of course, this time it was his decision. No one told him it was time to go back to the bunny diet. It's what he wants, what he needs. And this time he has something to fight for. And each time he doubts his decision, the only thing he has to do to get his wavering will steadfast again is to recall Elena's facial expression on Wickery Bridge...

It's true what he told her after the ball; if he lets himself feel, all he feels is pain. He just didn't tell her that he chose to bite the bullet and feel.

Pain is a strange thing; even through the blood haze it punches its way through the walls of a flipped switch, it's just disguised as an urge to kill. Giving into that urge helps to maintain the illusion of not caring about anything. But only for a while, then the pain starts nagging at the walls again. The incident on the bridge finally revealed to him that his pain never will let go of him, that it's even getting worse with each kill and particularly with each step he's taking to destroy the only thing that hold him upright all those months. And he knows that this is probably his only chance to get through with it…because only now he has this one thing to hold on to. Even though he will never be with her again.

His decision has nothing to do with wanting her back. He loves her, but he can't be with her anymore, he knows that. He destroyed too much. It was in the minutes on the bridge when it all fell in place; he finally got it just how much he wanted her back, but ironically it was the same time when he realized that he eventually and irrevocably had lost her with his action just a few minutes before. There's no way back, and, as hard as it is to admit, he's convinced that this is for the best. She deserves better than him; yet, it hurts not to fight for getting her back; the only way he can refrain from doing so is to push her away.

So he keeps pushing her away…

(He hates it.)

He grabs his phone out of his pocket and switches it on again. He frowns when he sees four missed calls from Damon during the last hour; his fingers tap on the display, and after a few seconds he listens to his brother's message left on the voice mail.

'Where are you? Why's your phone off? Call me!' Stefan squeezes his eyes shut for a second. Apparently something happened, and assessing to the urgency in Damon's voice it happened to Elena…

He sighs again before he dials his brother's number; obviously none of them will ever catch a break again…

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Damon shuts the door of his car with a bang.

"Dammit! Where is that witch?"

He furiously slams his hands against the steering wheel, giving vent to his pent-up frustration; they are running out of possibilities. Despite checking each and every hotel in and around Mystic Falls, they could not find Abby. Rebekah had already left to find her mother and Finn, so that left just the two of them.

"Maybe she _is _staying with old friends?" Damon suggests for the third time, but Caroline shakes her head.

"No, I told you, Bonnie said something about a motel when she met her the other day. I don't think that her mom even has friends here; it's been 16 years after all…"

The buzzing of Damon's phone interrupts her; he instantly snatches it out of his pocket, raising it to his ear after a brief look on the display.

"Finally!" he snarls. "Is Elena with you?"

Stefan hesitates for a split second, long enough to shatter what little hope Damon held onto of finding Elena safe and sound. _"I haven't seen her since she left the boarding house yesterday. Why, what happened?"_

Both vampires in the car hear Stefan's seemingly calm answer, but despite his attempt to conceal his worry, it resonates in his voice. Damon swallows, bracing himself for being the messenger.

"That's what I wanna know. No one's heard from her in more than 20 hours, and Judgy's missing, too." He hears Stefan breathing in sharply. "You know where mom Judgy resides?"

"_You know that little motel at the road to Amherst? As far as I know she's there. Pick me up, I'm coming with you."_

"Two minutes… boarding house." Damon hangs up and starts the ignition, relieved about having a goal again.

.

Most of the ride to the motel proceeds in silence; after filling Stefan in about what happened since they last met, all three of them are lost in thought. Damon sneaks a furtive side glance toward his brother; Stefan seems to be completely calm, almost relaxed, as if he isn't concerned in any way. As if he really doesn't care. Damon sighs inwardly, wondering if he appears the same, because he doesn't feel that way at all; he feels all quivery inside, but the only sign he allows himself to show is his foot on the pedal pushing the car to its limit, and it still isn't fast enough to Damon's taste.

Whenever he thinks about all those missed calls he cringes; everything could be all right now if only he hadn't dodged them, if only he wouldn't have had this fight with her, if only he hadn't left…_I promise, I will never leave you again_…He furrows his brows. No. As much as he wishes that Elena was safe, he'd done nothing wrong. He would not go down this road again. Although he can't quite shake off this feeling of having failed her, he straightens a little; he will not feel guilty for what happened.

But that doesn't take away the anxiety… He knows it's futile thinking about what-if anyway, and he forces himself to focus on something else. Anything else. But as much as he tries, the image of the brown haired girl keeps reappearing in his mind, and his insides tie into one big knot at the thought of what might have happened to her.

_Leave me alone; Elena... _It doesn't make it any easier that every now and then he thinks about the last words thrown toward her when he left her angry.

(He never wanted to be left alone.)

His anger isn't gone, of course not. And he can't deter the tiny part of him cheering and shouting 'look where it's getting you if I don't watch over you every minute of each day!' But the other part is much stronger. It's the part that loves her, no matter what she's doing, no matter how much she's hurting him. It's the part of him against which his sense of self preservation loses every damn fight. The part that is terrified of losing her; even if he will never have her the way he so badly wishes to, he loves her all the same.

It's kind of pathetic.

But he can't help it.

And, truth be told, he doesn't want to. (He thinks that maybe it's just a sign of strength.)

He can be angry and try to stay away from her again when she's safe.

.

He's relieved when they eventually arrive at the motel and find out it's the one they are looking for; finally he has a purpose to distract him. They walk over to the room they've been told Abby is staying in.

Stefan pushes Caroline in front of them. "Knock on the door; we'll stay in the back. We don't know if we can enter the room, and we don't want her to lock herself in. You're Bonnie's friend; maybe her mother remembers you…chances are that she will confide in you."

"Yeah, because the Bennet witches are _so_ trusting of a vampire…"Caroline mutters, but she nods and knocks, not too forcefully though; she doesn't want to scare the witch off.

Nothing happens; no one opens the door. But then they hear hushed noises, audible only to their vampire ears. They exchange meaningful looks, and while Stefan backs Caroline who's knocking again, reassuring calling out for Mrs. Bennet, Damon blurs soundlessly around the house to the back window.

He gets there in time to see how it's been pushed open, a leg appears on the window sill followed by the second leg, and then Abby is outside. Her feet haven't yet properly touched the ground when Damon's over her, pinning her against the wall, clamping a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Frozen, her eyes widened in terror, she stares at the vampire.

"Shhh," he soothes, "it's only me, the ruthless vampire your daughter hates with verve." He cracks a grin and feels Abby relaxing slightly under his hands. "I'll let go of you if you're…" He trails off as he feels an inkling of a familiar pain in his head; his grin is gone the same second, his grip on the witch's shoulder tightens and his features take in a menacing expression, his eyes blazing with anger now.

"Don't you ever try that again," he hisses in her ear, "unless you want me to end you painfully; you're not strong enough to hurt me." He thinks of Elena, pulls back a little, loosens his grip on the witch a fraction and focuses on what he wants from her. "We're here to try and rescue your daughter; she didn't answer any calls since yesterday, and that's not like her, so we think she's in trouble…" He cuts himself off and narrows his eyes, warily observing the woman's face. "But you knew that already, didn't you? You know what happened."

Assessing Abby's refusal to answer as confirmation, a hint of disgust crosses Damon's face. He eventually lets go of her, indicating with his raised pointer finger that she shouldn't even try to run away. Yet, she doesn't think about running away; she used all of what little will to defend herself she could muster up to give the vampire aneurisms; since she failed, she gives up, all the more as she can see two more vampires coming toward them now.

When Abby still doesn't utter a single word, Damon's patience begins to wear thin. "What happened?" he asks her sharply, and when she doesn't answer instantly, he grabs her shoulder again. "Spit it out. We can't help Bonnie if you won't tell us what happened."

He feels Caroline's hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down; with a last glare toward the witch he steps back, leaving it to Caroline to get Abby to spill the beans.

"Mrs. Bennet, I'm Caroline Forbes; yes, I'm a vampire, but I also happen to be one of Bonnie's best friends. We're really worried about her and Elena, who is missing as well. We need your help. Please tell us what you know; we can't help either of them if we don't know what happened."

Abby's glance darts to each vampire; deciding that her best chance to get out of here and maybe even to one day see her daughter again is to trust the vampires, she straightens a little.

"That witch Esther came to see Bonnie and told her she needed our help…"

.

She tells them everything about the ritual Esther performed last night, her audience listening intently up to the point when she tells them about Finn's disappearance.

"What do you mean, Finn vanished?" Caroline asks incredulous.

Abby shrugs one shoulder. "As I said; suddenly the flames were gone, and so was the vampire. Esther slumped to the ground, and I thought she was dead; well, I think part of her actually was dead. Just…" She shudders, and tears begin to fill her eyes. "I think it was only her body…" She only whispers now, obviously overwhelmed by trepidation about what she saw the night before. "I think her spirit survived and…" she trails off and swallows. Damon eventually loses his temper and slams her into the wall again. "What? What did Esther's spirit do?"

"It invaded Bonnie's body…" Abby sobs, tears streaming down her face now. The vampires stand dumbstruck, sharing terrified looks.

Stefan is the first to regain his composure. "What happened then? Abby, it's very important that you tell us everything you know. Bonnie and Elena's lives are dangling on a string."

Abby swallows and snuffles. "From the moment Esther fell to the ground, Bonnie was…different. After a while she turned to me and cast a spell…she wanted me to forget what I had seen…"

"What, like compulsion?" Caroline interrupts with arched brows.

"Yeah, pretty much. But I…you know that I lost most of my powers; but to make up for a part of it, I learned a lot about using herbs; many of them have enough power for me to be able to do magic; smaller spells at least. I always have a twig of an herb with me that is useful to fend off a spell; it's easy to override, except that you have to know that I'm using it." A smile lights up her face for a moment.

"So you remember everything. That's fantastic. It would be even more fantastic if you shared your knowledge with us about what the _hell_ _happened to Bonnie_…" Damon snarls, invading her private space again; he gets more and more agitated, he feels like they are running out of time; the need to get going and to try and find Elena grows every minute, and he can barely restrain from throttling the witch.

"She left. According to what she mumbled, she came back later to fetch Esther's body to hide it somewhere, but I didn't see that. I turned on my heels and ran as soon as she was gone…"

"Why didn't you tell anyone instead of hiding under your bed like a toddler? It would've been nice to know this earlier, so we could've maybe, you know, _helped_ your daughter!" Caroline doesn't feel like being nice either. She's shocked that a mother would act like a coward if her daughter's life's on the line; she pictures her own mother, and as much as they had their issues, she knows she could always count on her if she was in danger.

Abby flinches at the vampire's harsh words. "I didn't know who to address …" she murmurs sheepishly.

Damon snorts disgusted. "Clearly, because you had no clue whose side your daughter is on…But it seems to be a habit of yours to rat your daughter out whenever she needs you. Way to make up for old mistakes…"

Abby falters; she knows they have every right to blame her. Every single one of them has done more for her daughter than she has, so she says the only thing she can to her defense. "I was terrified…"

"So was Bonnie; but she always decided to do the right thing anyway. She would've died for her _friend_, whereas you didn't even have the decency to inform someone about the trouble your _daughter_ is in." Damon huffs disdainfully, grabbing Abby at her upper arm and steering her toward his car. "You're coming with us. Right now you're the only witch in town other than Esther, well, sort of; maybe it'll turn out that we need your help after all and for once you could be useful."

"Where do we go now? We still don't know how to find Bonnie or what the hell happened to Elena…" Caroline pipes up.

Damon doesn't like what they found out, but at least they have come one step further. The feeling of unease inside isn't gone, but it's supplemented by determination. "Esther has her; she needs her blood to make a new attempt to link her surviving children, I guess." He opens the car door and ruggedly shoves Abby on the back seat. "It's no longer Bonnie we're looking for, it's Esther. Maybe one of her spawn has an idea where she hides."

"So it's a good thing that you're good friends with the blood slut now…" Caroline can't help but taunting him; she recognizes her mistake as soon as she sees Damon flashing her an angry glance.

"Good thing that you're making out with the devil now…"

Stefan cuts in before they can start a fight. "Spare me the bickering. Let's get back to Mystic Falls. And we should probably call Elijah…"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Breathe and think.

That's all she can do. Breathe and think.

The first is too easy to distract her long enough from the second.

So she thinks.

About things that made her happy in the past.

About things that made her angry in the past.

About things she regrets.

Mostly about the last part.

And it's weird that everything she's thinking of revolves around Damon.

Or it's not.

Because sometimes she gets this feeling that all that matters in her life has to do with Damon. And this insight isn't all that new to her.

What _is_ weird, though, is that her heart always starts to flutter when she thinks of him.

Yet, that's not really news flash either…

Elena sighs; the nausea keeps coming back, and it's getting even stronger. To make things worse, her head started to spin every now and then, and the dizzy feeling has been with her for a while now. She begins to think that maybe it's not a concussion causing these problems; maybe it has something to do with the spell paralyzing her. If so, it's definitely not a good sign that it's getting worse. It feels a little as if what deters her from moving slowly starts to take over her brain and is starting to paralyze it, too. Oh well. It's not that she can do much about it.

And all that thinking surely doesn't help to get rid of the dizziness

She tries to concentrate on breathing again.

(Breathe.)

Sadly it doesn't help either; despite her effort not to think, right now her mind stays focused on the latest regret. She hurt him, again, and nothing is fixed yet.

She tries to shrug it of; she keeps telling herself that she just hadn't had the time to apologize.

But lying here for hours, cold and frightened, damned to immobility, she can't hide anymore from the fact that she's not being completely honest to herself.

The truth is that, if she really had wanted to, she could've apologized the very same night. She could've called him or even followed him.

But she didn't. For the same reason why she didn't later, not until now.

The truth is that she's simply scared.

She knows that it's necessary and he deserves it; but it scares the hell out of her to know that if she apologized, she'd maybe concede too much.

Once she apologizes for considering his love for her as a problem, she'll have to explain why it is one for her.

(Breathe.)

It's not that she thinks he'd care too much. Hell, no! She's beyond glad that he finally cares, and in her opinion one can never care too much.

What she meant that night about his love being a problem was just that because he loves her, he's much too scared of losing her. He sees mortal danger everywhere around her, and he is not willing to let her take any risk, no matter what she thinks about it. If it was his choice, he would never let her out of his sight.

(He was right this time.)

It sometimes feels as if he thought he owned her.

She understands him well; she knows this feeling of overprotectiveness. She had Damon compelling Jeremy into safety, after all. She took away her brother's free will, and although she feels guilty, she is certain of having done the right thing. Just like Damon always is convinced of doing the right thing by deciding for her. What counts for them is the outcome; the person in question survives. Nothing else matters. Yes, she understands that well.

Nevertheless it bugs her to no end if _she_ is the person in question, and that's the part of him loving her that was the problem that she referred to at the ball.

Normally she wouldn't have any qualms with explaining this.

The thing is, it's not her only problem…and she knows what will happen if she argues with Damon. She's convinced that he will contradict her explanation, challenge her and lure her out to admit more than she is willing to.

And she can't tell him that, whenever he lets his love shine through the façade of casualty, it stirs up feelings in her she doesn't want to think about. Because if she did, she would have to acknowledge them. And this is just not right. _Yeah, it's right. Just not right now_…

The words he spoke on her porch are still echoing in her head, just as his lips are still burning on hers.

And, of course, her heart begins to flutter…

Maybe…

(Breathe. Just breathe.)

It's getting harder each time not to act on these feelings. It's tempting, because there is so much that feels just …good. It feels good to be with him; it feels good when he makes her laugh even when she's sad or angry. Even being the target of his overprotectiveness feels good, in a weird way, because in these moments she simply feels loved stronger than ever by him. In fact, the rare moments in all that craziness around them when she had been able to forget about all the bad stuff and had felt …happy…had been with him. And his lips on hers…she can't remember when a kiss ever felt so good before. It took all of her restraint to not throw her arms around him or, after they broke it, to run after him…

But she couldn't. She still just can't let that happen. At first she has to come clean about all her feelings, and that includes her feelings for his brother. The one she thought she'd love forever.

Except that 'forever' never included her turning into a vampire…

And…does she still love him? When he first disappeared she'd held onto him for months. Nothing could make her love him any less; not the time apart without hearing from him, or knowing that he gave her up to save his brother's life. Not even the news about the slaughtered bodies made her doubting her love for him; she chalked it up to his addiction to human blood, not allowing herself to think about what this sick behavior under the influence of human blood said about Stefan.

When they found him in Chicago and he tried to push her away, she compared it to the time when he'd fell off the wagon months ago; he had also tried to scare her off back then, but she hadn't let him. She fought for him, and in the end she had won. So she tried to fight for him the same way again, but this time Klaus stepped between them and compelled him to switch off his humanity. In a way it made it even easier to hold on to him, for a while at least, because she hadn't to consider him guilty for his bloody deeds anymore.

But then Klaus released him from the compulsion; yet, Stefan didn't flip the switch back. He preferred not to care. He let in only one feeling; the need to take revenge on the hybrid. And somewhere along the way, Elena realized that once again he had given her up, and this time without being forced to. Despite all her efforts to tear him back from the edge, draw him back to her, he decided not to care for her anymore.

(Breathe.)

To top it all he pulled that stunt on Wickery Bridge. And that incident finally began to let the insight filter down to her mind that things had changed between them. And that it might be irrevocable.

But that doesn't mean that her love for him is gone; she still loves him, and she's quite certain that, whatever he's pretending, he still loves her too. And recalling his facial expression outside of the car, she's sure that even on Wickery Bridge he did. Him using her as leverage wasn't just the ultimate kick in Klaus' ass, it was also his desperate attempt in pushing her away from him.

And this time he succeeded.

(Just breathe…)

Although she still loves Stefan, the man who he tries to hide inside, it will never be the same love as before. Eventually he broke it. What he did to her was over the line. Had he been compelled, had she not known that he was capable of feeling that night, maybe nothing would have changed.

But he felt.

Elena's breathing gets heavier when she suddenly realizes that an understanding is surfacing that until now she kept lingering in the back of her mind. Lying here with nothing but her lungs and her mind doing their job forces her to deal with it and to finally accept the truth; even though he might have done it intending to do what was best for her, his ability to feel that night makes this incident the worst thing ever happened to her. Stefan knowingly hurt her in the worst way imaginable.

Her breath catches in her throat.

(Breathe. Breathe. Breathe!)

She feels tears forming in her eyes at the thought that it's right now that she loses him. How could she ever again be with someone who, for whatever reason, was capable of doing _this_ to her? She doesn't want to compare the brothers, but right now she can't help it; her mind leaps to the other Salvatore, and she doesn't need to think about if Damon could have ever done this to her. She knows the simple answer - of course not. He _had_ hurt her, deliberately. (He slept with Rebekah.) But this? No. Never. _I got it, Elena. I care too much. _How the hell could he ever assume, even for a second, that she thought he cared too much? He cared too much for hurting her the way his brother had, but that's not what _he_ meant.

She pictures his eyes again, the boiling hurt they held that night, and she's craving to have him here, to finally ease the pain she caused. Why did she hold it off so long? The force of the longing she's feeling for Damon surprises her; but what really catches her off guard is the realization that this is not new to her, that she has felt like this for a long time; one more thing she adds to the list of denials…

Why the hell couldn't she acknowledge her feelings? He had done so much for her, and she had always rejected him, in spite of her feelings. (Because of her feelings.) She always took him for granted, him _and_ his love for her. _I will never leave you again_… And she never gave him anything back. _Well, maybe you should finally start reconsidering your behavior toward him before he realizes that you're not worth all that trouble he puts himself through._ She cringes inwardly as she remembers Rebekah's words. But as much as she hates to admit it, the Original was right. He deserves so much more from her…She wonders if she will finally be able to give him more once she sees him again. She desperately wishes to know what happens to him while she's trapped in here. She doesn't even know if he's still alive…

It's at this point that she becomes aware that once again, her breath catches and she has to gasp for air, and she knows this time it's not because of racing thoughts in her mind. This time it's real. It's getting harder to breathe, and the dizziness in her head steadily increases. She knows that whatever spell Esther has cast on her is slowly consuming her whole body. However, her worry is focused on Damon and the others who are in danger of being killed by the blood _she_ donated…

And all of a sudden, the fear of never having the opportunity to tell him how she feels comes crashing down on her.

Esther left with her blood hours ago; she is determined to end what she started, and she knows that her children are suspicious, at least one of them. Surely she will find a way to get the doppelganger's blood into them …

Elena feels her heart clenching.

Because maybe…

(Breathe…Breathe…)

…maybe it's too late…

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** There.

All that thinking...And NO Originals. Don't worry, they will reappear soon.

And still no Delena-scenes...but they will come. Soon. Promised.

Tell me what you think...

Push the button :-)

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PS: My beta told me that one of the Twilight films opens with a deer-hunting scene too. I didn't know that, since I never read or watched anything of Twilight. Sorry for any similarities, they weren't intended.


	6. Chapter 6

****Disclaimer**: **I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

**A/N:** Yeah...you bribed me well. Thank you so much, you guys for your awesome reviews (as usual especially to those I couldn't PM!) It's not your fault that it took so long. It was just life getting in the way...I'm sorry for the delay!

And when I finally wanted to update yesterday, the site broke down in parts once more and the doc manager wouldn't let me in. Now the doc manager obviously works again (seeing that I'm in...), but the stats are still down, and I know of people who got belated e-mail information about reviews and new chapters...

I don't like to post a new chapter without working hit counter, because it's an important part of feedback for me (I don't know if people still bother to read and if the alerts are even getting through without it...), but I wouldn't want to let you wait any longer :-)

So, reviews are the only way to make up for the missing stats...

Anyways, here it is; I hope you enjoy it...

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 6**

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* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>**  
><strong>

They decide to let Stefan do the job of calling Elijah; Damon had never been on good terms with him, and he isn't too eager to tell the Original that one of his brothers is probably dead; Caroline doesn't know Elijah particularly well, and she seems to be relieved when Stefan volunteers.

He reaches the Original while they are waiting for Abby and Caroline, who are fetching the witch's herbs from her motel room. Elijah tells Stefan that he's out of town with Kol, doing some research. He listens intently as Stefan fills him in about the incident in the woods, and he's very quiet when he hears about Finn's disappearance. The Original, who never shows a great deal of emotions radiates sadness in a way that Stefan oddly feels as if it's palpable, even through the phone.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

Elijah clears his throat, but with his next words he wipes away Stefan's sympathy: "_Don't be, it's what he wanted…well, not what he wanted to achieve with this, but I'm glad about his failure; elsewise we would all be dead by now, maybe even you. I'm not sure if I can forgive him."_

Stefan swallows and decides to change the subject. "Do you have any idea where your mother could be? I mean, she has to hide somewhere; she can't quite go to school tomorrow pretending to be Bonnie. You know, we haven't been able to find Elena since…the incident, and we suspect Esther is holding her captive."

Elijah becomes quiet again, pondering Stefan's request for a while, but he can't think of anything helpful. _"I'm sorry about this, but I don't have the slightest idea. You should ask my sister and maybe Niklaus. They were the ones always snooping around everywhere back then."_

"Yeah, right. Because Klaus will be so willing to help us…" Stefan groans and gives his brother a pointed look. Damon arches his brows and shrugs his shoulders; if Elijah can't help, they have to try their luck at the Mikaelson mansion…

.

The ride back to Mystic Falls starts as quietly as the last one.

After a few minutes though, Caroline is the first suddenly raising her voice. While thinking of Bonnie, an image crossed her mind, and she wonders why nobody thought of this obvious possibility earlier. She turns toward Bonnie's mother.

"Couldn't you do some locator spell or something to find Elena? Bonnie always does stuff like that…"

Damon's head jerks back for a second, and Stefan also tosses Abby a glance. Caroline eyes her curiously and sees her shifting in unease at the question.

"No, I'm afraid I can't. It's not a tough spell, but I don't have enough power, not even for that. Less than ever without having access to some blood of a relative, and as far as I know, Jeremy's out of town, right?"

Caroline nods disappointed, but isn't willing to give up already. "Isn't there anything you could do that might help to find Bonnie or Elena? I mean, what good does it being a witch if you're as useless as a trap door on a life boat in a crisis? Maybe you just aren't thinking hard enough."

Abby looks disgruntled, but Damon smirks. And obviously Caroline hit a sensitive spot, because suddenly the witch straightens up and her face blushes a little.

"I could use some herbs and try to connect someone with Elena; if one of you has a strong emotional bond to her, it'd be worth a shot."

Caroline beams at the success of her pushing the witch a little, and points to the younger Salvatore. "Stefan is her boyfriend." She hears two hisses from the front seats and concedes, "Well, sort of. In any case there is a strong bond between them, as required."

She meets Stefan's eyes, glancing insecurely, almost afraid at her. "What?" she snaps. "Can't hurt to try, right?" Stefan tears his eyes away from her and gazes toward his brother instead. Damon sits silently behind the steering wheel, forcing himself to look back reassuringly.

Stefan hesitates; he's not so sure about the bond's strength between the human girl and him anymore, but Caroline's right. It's worth a shot.

He breathes in deeply, bracing himself. "Okay, let's do it."

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* * *

><p>.<p>

Elijah feels Kol's gaze on him after hanging up the phone. He turns his head toward his brother for a moment, meeting his reproachful looking eyes, and then he turns his attention back to the road in front of them.

"There. Now you know," he says matter-of-factly. Neither his face nor his eyes give away any emotion he might feel, as if none of this mattered to him.

Kol knows better, but he doesn't feel the need to call his brother out for this right now. He leans back and grabs a blood bag, briefly marveling at the easiness of getting human blood nowadays before his thoughts shift back to what he overheard a moment ago.

"So Finn is dead, huh?" He can't help but feel…sad about his brother's death, and he didn't expect that. Their relationship after turning had always been…estranged, at best. Finn detested what they became from the very beginning, while Kol, after a short time of adjusting to his new self, embraced this life, enjoying the perks of it and took the rest as it came, mostly with a shrug. However, even though Finn had have the annoying habit of loathing his younger brother's behavior, Kol still recalls the time before being turned; Finn had been his admired big brother back then, who taught him hunting and fishing, things their father never took the time to do.

He succeeds in shoving this unwanted feeling of sadness in the darkest depth of forgetting and turns to Elijah again who is still contemplating his answer.

"I'm not sure," he says pensively after a while. "He just vanished in the flames, without leaving so much as a trace of ash; that is…unusual."

Kol chuckles at that. "Yes, 'unusual' covers it. Do you think he survived it somehow?"

"I really don't know, Kol. I've never heard of something like this before. We should ask a witch."

They both fall silent for a few minutes, Kol occasionally sipping at his blood bag while his thoughts once more circle around Elijah's conversation at the phone. What he really wants to know doesn't concern Finn's disappearance at all. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You mean what Mother is really up to?" Elijah raises one brow in mock incomprehension. "That she only came back for killing her own children? That she wants to get rid of us?" He pauses, getting serious then. "I guess I just…postponed it for a while; I was not sure about the way you'd react; if you would do something stupid."

Kol tosses him a displeased glance. "You mean you didn't trust me," he clarifies; Elijah just shrugs unabashed.

"If you want to put it like that…that, and because I didn't want to be the one telling you. I'm not very good in being the messenger."

Kol rolls his eyes in annoyance. "You know that I don't really care about Mother. And you knew that I presumed she intended to kill us anyway. Why didn't you tell me?"

Elijah's voice gets a fraction softer with his next words. "Because definitely knowing it hurts all the same, Kol. Even if you were joking around with this before."

Kol doesn't answer to that; he knows of course that his brother is right. He really doesn't give a crap about his mother, but knowing that she wants to kill them hurts either way.

He contemplates what exactly he knows, and he comes up nearly blank. Everything he knows is what he heard while eavesdropping on Elijah's conversation with Stefan some minutes ago. He doesn't even know where they're headed to, and he's determined to change that right now. "This isn't just a funny road trip to spend some time with your little brother, is it, Elijah? You said you had to take care of something. What is it? It has to do with this incident with Mother, right?"

Elijah sighs. Once he asked Kol to accompany him on this trip it became unavoidable to tell him the truth, but he still doesn't feel like doing it now. He decides to tell him at least half of it, hoping that he wouldn't dig deeper. "I have to meet someone."

"Meet who?"

"A witch."

"We're going to meet a witch? Do I know her?" Kol asks curious; he knows that his brother is holding back with something, and the determination to crack the shell of silence Elijah has erected around himself increases.

Elijah gives him a pointed look. "How long has it been since you were raised from your coffin you've been napping in for a hundred years? How many witches have you met during this incredibly long time?" Kol snorts as an answer, and Elijah raises his brows suggestively. "So, do you think you know her?"

Kol is silenced; for now.

They sit in the car, side by side, bringing them closer to an unknown target as far as Kol is concerned, and curiosity keeps nagging at him; but he knows that right now his brother wouldn't give him any more information. He leans forward to switch the radio on; it never fails to amaze him to use all those new and fantastic devices. Expecting some kind of music, and he learned already that 'music' covers a lot of different sorts of noise, he startles at the loud crackle suddenly sounding from the speakers now. Elijah can't help but laugh at Kol's appalled looking face, and it's one of the most carefree sounds Kol has ever heard from his oldest brother, who usually seems so self-controlled. Elijah pushes another button at the radio, and finally what actually sounds like music drifts through the car. He turns the volume down a little and smiles at his brother, and Kol instantly decides to use the opportunity.

"Thank you," he smiles back, "that was…" He trails off, fanning himself to demonstrate that it was a bit too much. After a moment he adds casually, "What do you want from the witch we're going to meet, by the way?" Forcing himself not to examine Elijah's face and showing feigned interest in their surroundings instead, he sees the slight shift in his demeanor from the corner of his eye. "Is it about Mother?" he presses, knowing that, if this opportunity passes by without any result, he'll have to wait even longer, and he's way too curious.

"Something like that," Elijah concedes somewhat reluctantly; he doesn't know the slightest what Kol would think about what he has in mind, so he doesn't intend to reveal too much now; he will find out before long anyway. He casts him a look and sees Kol's piercing glance on him, and he sighs again. "Give it a rest, Kol. You will see soon enough."

But Kol's not willing to give up, even less now as a suspicion sneaks into his mind, and he's not so sure what to think about that. "You want to kill Nik." He manages to leave all traces of accusation out of his voice.

Elijah turns his head to scrutinize his brother's features for any hint about his opinion, but he doesn't find one. "We're almost there. Have a little patience." He turns his head to the road again, putting an end to the conversation. Kol sighs, but he backs down; he knows it's pointless. If Elijah doesn't want to spill, he won't.

About ten minutes later Elijah pulls into a small street branching off from the main route. After a few hundred yards a small house suddenly appears behind a corner. Elijah pulls over right in front of the house and gets out of the car. Tossing his brother a look, he tilts his head toward the house, signaling Kol to follow him. Together they walk the few yards over to the house, ascend the porch, and then Elijah knocks on the front door. Curiosity gets the better of Kol now, and he attentively observes the door. It takes only a few seconds until it opens, and an African American woman in her thirties appears in the door frame. When her eyes fall on the vampires she looks stunned. "Oh," is all she manages to say; but her confusion is nothing compared to the look of utter shock that appears on Kol's face. He pales and stares at her, his eyes go round as saucers. His jaw drops; then he swallows in an effort to regain his composure, clears his throat, and still he's only able to let out barely more than a whisper. "Gale…? How…you're…how is that even possible?"

She turns toward the frozen Original, and a bright smile lightens her features for a moment.

"Yeah, that's a mystery, right? Good thing that I'm the one responsible for some of the mysteries in the world…" She lifts her hand, reaching for him, but half way through it thinks better of it as a hint of insecurity appears in her eyes, and she lets it sink down again. She turns to the older brother, and a sense of foreboding clouds her face. She examines his facial expression, but as usual she can't read anything in it.

"Hello Gale," he greets her. "We need to talk."

He doesn't flinch at her scrutinizing look. Whatever it is he wants from her, he won't let her know on her porch. With a warm gaze on the younger Mikaelson she steps aside.

"Come on in. Both you."

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* * *

><p>.<p>

Breathe and think.

Was there really a time when she tried desperately to focus on breathing, because it was so much easier than wallowing in her mistakes?

It seems to be days ago.

It's different now.

Now, all she can think of is to finally take a deep breath. It feels like being so thirsty that your mind begins playing tricks on you, teases you with the image of water washing around your tongue, wetting every corner of your mouth and eventually flowing through your throat. This image haunts you, until you are finally released by getting some real water to drink.

Elena is equally thirsty for air to soothe her burning lungs, for oxygen to fight the growing dizziness in her head.

But the release of a deep breath fails to come.

As much as she fights for it.

Now she desperately tries to think of anything except her starving lungs, something to distract her from the pain.

She tries to focus on school, to recite a poem she learned years ago, to recall mathematical formulas; she tries to focus on songs she likes, to remember the last girls' night; it's pointless. The need for air is too strong.

The only thing that helps is the image of the one dark haired vampire she avoided to think of for the better part of the last year. Now it's his face in her mind that makes the panic ebb away a little, that calms her down enough to almost forget about the increasing lack of oxygen in her body for a little while. That makes her almost forget that she's about to die. Every time the panic threatens to overwhelm her it's his image showing up in her mind that tears her back from the edge.

(She wished he knew how much he helped her.)

She doesn't know how long she's been lying here; her sense of time doesn't work down here in the complete darkness; but she assumes that they have probably noticed that she's missing; she knows that nobody knows where she is, that maybe no one even knows this place. But somehow she trusts Damon to find her. If anyone can, it's him. Simply because he'll move heaven and earth to get her back.

She's sure about that, no matter what fight they had, no matter how much she hurt him.

And stunned she realizes that she's so sure because she would do the same for him. No matter what happened before.

_I'm mad at you because I love you_…No matter how angry those words came out, it's what holds her up.

For a little while, until the next wave of panic washes over her.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

Abby tells them that her abilities of doing magic with her herbs would increase if she drew power out of nature, so they leave the car and go a few hundred yards into the woods stretching along the road. Stefan and the witch settle on the ground, holding hands, the mentioned herbs pressed between their palms. Caroline paces back and forth nervously while Damon leans against a tree, wearing a mask of indifference; yet she can see his eyes giving away the deception, and Caroline is surprised to realize that maybe she's not doing him justice. In her perception, Damon's always the bad guy; but seeing him like this begins to transform her view. Of course she knows that he has changed a lot, but she can't get rid of the pictures of their time together, of him using her as a puppet, abusing her, shutting out her free will. Then again…Unwillingly the image of another vampire appears, a vampire who had done much worse. And yet, she lets him worm his way into her heart, in one way or another, as much as she tries to resist. She's not really ready to give him a chance to see something different in him than only the ass of hybrid who kills and tortures her friends; but she finds that, against her will, she's beginning to walk down the trust-the-bad-guy-road, on her way to do exactly that.

Damon on the other hand had done nothing other than saving and protecting Elena and her friends and family for the last year, including her; and still she's not willing to forgive him? Caroline furrows her brows in annoyance; that's not like her. She sneaks a look at him and sees his eyes rooted on his brother, expressing so much fear, hope and hurt mingled together that she feels compassion rising up in her. She acts spontaneous as she always does; she steps beside him and, without further ado, gently lays her hand on his arm. "We will get her back," she says softly, "we always do."

Damon turns toward her, his eyes scanning her face, and he's surprised to notice that she's seriously trying to comfort him and, even more surprising, that he's grateful. Their gazes lock for a few seconds, then he swallows and nods once, nearly imperceptibly, and turns his attention back to his brother; just in time to see Stefan and Abby breaking their connection. "My power's not strong enough," Abby whines, "not even for this."

Stefan wipes off the herbs from his palm, leaving them in Abby's hands, and rises from the ground. Searching his brother's eyes, he says with a hint of desperation in his voice, "I couldn't reach her." Damon instantly understands that it's more than just the disappointment of not being closer to find Elena; that it might be what he was afraid of, a manifestation of losing the bond between them. And even though they both love the same girl, they are as a matter of fact kind of fighting over her - he can't help but feeling bad for his brother. He knows it all too well, this feeling of losing her.

Caroline watches the brothers, sees their silent conversation, and suddenly a realization hits her; turning toward Abby she blurts out, "Try Damon."

Both brothers' heads jerk around to shoot her a glance; Stefan's face shows a strange mixture of hurt, betrayal and sad acknowledgment, while Damon's eyes mostly seem to express fear and nervousness. Abby looks bewildered from one brother to the other; but when Stefan approves, quietly saying, "Yeah, Damon, do it," she just nods and sits down on the ground again, waving with her hand to the place Stefan left a minute ago.

Damon gives his brother a somewhat apologetically look and then he settles on the ground, right on the place Stefan occupied just a minute before. Nervously he places his hands over the witch's hands, outstretched with her palms up and the herbs lying on it, and waits for her instructions.

"Just close your eyes and try to shield yourself against your surrounding; picture Elena in your mind and focus on her."

Damon lets out an unhappy chuckle; 'picture Elena in your mind and focus on her' - few things expected from him in his long life had been so easy to achieve as this one. He closes his eyes, and for a moment, he is hyperaware of the herbs pressed against his palms, until he lets an image of a smiling Elena appear behind his closed eyes. Instantly he begins to relax, as if she's there, calming him down with her sheer presence. He doesn't know that he's smiling, neither does he hear the surprised gasp of Caroline. (He looks so _happy_.)

And then he is sure that she _is_ there; he can sense her, he sees her, he hears her heart beating and her breath flowing in and out of her lungs, and he can smell her scent; he can _feel_ her presence, he has even the impression that he could touch her if only he tried. She smiles at him, and he hears himself whisper, "Elena." She doesn't move her lips; though he can hear her talking, too. "Damon. I'm so glad you're here…"

He feels strange, and he doesn't understand what it is, feeling so different from how he usually feels. The emotions are running wild inside of him, and he doesn't quite recognize all of them. It takes some time until he suddenly gets it. He is connected to her in a much deeper way than he expected, he can even feel _her_ emotions; and he's stunned to realize that she is not only glad to see someone coming to her rescue, but she is glad to see _him_. And he perceives another feeling, which is very strong; she feels it toward him, and if he didn't know better…

But then slowly the image changes; the background becomes visible, and Damon recognizes the room she's in as a cave; he remembers why he's here and tries to find out where exactly they are, but he doesn't know this place; it's none of the caves he knows of. His eyes drift back to Elena, and his smile disappears from his face; she has changed, too.

The image of her that he'd summoned is gone. Now he sees her lying on the cave's ground, her eyes closed, motionless, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead; and the emotions he received of her until now are dominated by one major feeling now: fear. He focuses on her with all of his senses, completely ignoring the surrounding. And all of a sudden he knows why she doesn't move; she simply can't. He hears her strained breathing getting shallower, pausing, and then struggling. She clearly has to fight to get air into her lungs; he feels every desperate attempt to breathe as if he was her, and he just knows that she's also feeling dizzy. And suddenly he's sure that they are running out of time; that he has to leave, although this is the opposite of what he yearns to do. "Elena," he says, knowing that he doesn't move his lips either, "I have to go back, but we'll come and get you. Try to relax. We _will_ find you." He feels her fear increasing, she desperately doesn't want to let him go. He tries to give her strength, but he doesn't know if she can feel it, if she can feel _him_ like he feels _her_; all he knows is that he has to hurry if he wants to find her in time. "I'll come back, I promise," he whispers, and against the urge to stay here, he tears himself away from her, back to where his body waits for him. And his heart breaks to leave her alone.

And he still doesn't know how to find her.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

When Damon comes to again, he realizes at first that Caroline is staring at him wide eyed; the next thing he becomes aware of is that he's lying on the ground and his brother is holding him in his arms, that in itself showing how alarmingly his performance must've been. Lifting his glance, he sees Abby standing a few yards away, watching him, her face frozen in fright. He notices that his own face is damp from sweat and tears, and embarrassed he wipes them away with the back of his hand.

And then he feels the grip of Caroline's hand on his arm, and it's getting tighter the second. "Damon, what happened?" He squeezes his eyes shut for a little while, fighting against the forgotten feeling of nausea that he hadn't felt for over one and a half century, wondering where it comes from, why he feels it now and how this is even possible.

"Damon, is everything okay with you? What happened? Did you find her?" Caroline urges now; her last words echo in his head; her? Who the hell is she referring to?

And all of a sudden, like an explosion in his head, the knowledge is back. Elena! He struggles out off his brother's arms and sits up straight; his head spins, but he doesn't care.

Elena. All of the pieces fall in place; it's her nausea that he's feeling, her fear churning his guts, her tears that he was shedding. He can still feel her inside of his body, as if every cell partly belonged to her. It's eerie; disturbing and wonderful at once. Never before he has been so close to her, to anybody. The strongest feeling though is the slow fading of her life, and realizing this propels him up and toward the car, leaving two bewildered vampires and one horrified witch in his wake.

"She's dying," he throws back over his shoulders, "we have to find her!"

And his only hope to come in time are the Mikaelsons.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Finally a little Delena; kinda sorta. Hope you liked it.

Don't forget to review for making me know that there are still people reading...


	7. Chapter 7

****Disclaimer**: **I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

**A/N: **You guys...you rock! Thank you all for your support, I could practically feel that you're still reading, even without working hit counter! Thanks so much...

On a totally unrelated note, three of my kids are sick for days now, so I might be delayed with the next chapter, I apologize in advance...

A very special thanks to my very special Kymberleii :-)

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Here it goes...

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* * *

><p><strong><strong>.

**Chapter 7**

****.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

_Think._

_Think!_

_Think of anything!_

_What will you do on your next vacation, Elena?_

_I won't be on vacation ever again, because I'm going to die down here…breathe!_

_Crap._

_Think of something else!_

_That was really funny when we had that slumber party a year ago and Bonnie… Bonnie…Esther…air!_

_Fuck._

_Try again. Think!_

I'm mad at you because I love you…

_Damon…_

Elena relaxes slightly; just a little bit, but it's enough to successfully suck in a small amount of air into her lungs.

It's still the only thing that helps; thinking of Damon.

She tried to think of Stefan, but the only image she saw of him was on Wickery Bridge, and _that_ didn't help at all.

_I'm mad at you because I love you…_

She sees his eyes again, that hurt look at her after her stupid words; and it's weird, but this memory of all things is what gives her the strength for the next shallow breath. She has to survive, because there's still this thing she has to fix. She can't die and leave him with this…

"Elena."

She startles. A whisper... She's sure about it; she heard a whisper. But…she's also sure no one is here; And yet…there _was_ a whisper.

And all of a sudden she just knows it's Damon. She feels it.

She knows he's not really here, but she can feel his presence. She doesn't know how it works, and she doesn't care; all that matters is that he's here…

"Damon," she hears herself saying, even though she still can't move, "I'm so glad you're here…" She can see him now, and he smiles at her, and her emotions go into overdrive. She's glad and scared and relieved, she's confused and terrified; and then there's another feeling overlying everything else. She knows it well, although she denied it for a very long time; but now it feels…different. She wonders why, until she suddenly understands that she's feeling both of their feelings, hers _and_ Damon's. They must be connected somehow, and she assumes that a witch, probably Abby, has her hands in it.

She's taken aback of the intensity of their mingled emotions, particularly of this one feeling coming from both of them which is the strongest.

The need to apologize right now for her stupid words is strong, but she knows she can't do it. Not yet. It's what keeps her fighting to stay alive, after all. And with this thought, the hopelessness of her situation creeps back into her mind, closing tight around her lungs, constricting them even more. And once again, there's merely room for any feeling other than fear, and for a while it's the only feeling she receives from Damon, too.

And then his fear shifts to determination, and he starts to retreat. "Elena, I have to go back, but we'll come and get you. Try to relax. We _will_ find you," she hears him saying, and she knows he has to go if she wants to have the slightest chance to survive. It's her only chance. But she desperately tries to hold on to him, to hold him back. She's so scared. (She doesn't want to be left alone again.) She's aware that he feels her panic, and he tries to reassure her; she can feel his strength flowing through her veins. He whispers, "I'll come back, I promise," and then he's gone.

She's all alone again; but his strength still stays with her for a long while.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

When they arrive at the Mikaelson mansion, they leave Abby in the car; she's shaking with trepidation to be so close to all those Originals, and she wouldn't be of any help anyway. They rush over to the house, and again it's Caroline knocking at the door. It takes only a few seconds until it creaks open and the owner of the house himself appears, leaning casually against the door frame, a joyous grin curling his lips, making his eyes glisten brightly for a moment.

"Why hello, love. To what do I owe this pleasure?" His voice is as velvety as Caroline remembers it, and she doesn't know what she hates more right now, that her heart leaps in her chest, or the fact that everyone around her can hear it.

Damon snorts and rolls his eyes, but there's no time for this now. "Where's Rebekah?" he demands growling, eliciting an amused glint in Klaus' eyes due to the urgency Damon's tight voice is giving away.

"Stefan! You let your brother get all your discarded girls now?" Although addressing his ex-wing man, the hybrid's eyes never leave Damon; he is clearly enjoying the situation. Shifting slightly toward the older brother, he makes it clear that his next words are directed at him. "Doesn't it make you feel a little inferior, though, to always be just…second choice?"

Damon knows this game. He really does. He played it himself at every opportunity over the decades; hitting people at their weakest spot, poking fun at them where it hurts. Normally he stands above such taunting.

But right now that he's too busy being scared for Elena, he's not able to brush Klaus off, to throw back a one-liner, to just shrug and roll his eyes. Instead, rage takes over; he lunges at the Original and flings him against the door frame, hauling himself over him and pushing his wind pipe shut with both hands. "Where's Rebekah?" His voice rumbles deep in his throat; but only until Klaus cuts him off by grabbing his arms and yanking him aside, above him in a flash, all amusement gone and his eyes flaring with unhinged fury now. He doesn't hear Caroline gasping and shouting for him. This arrogant young vampire, who never quite acknowledged how much stronger the hybrid is, how all Originals are for that matter, has challenged him long enough. His hands shift from Damon's throat up to his head, ready to snap his neck, as he suddenly finds himself flying through the air, crashing on the ground a few yards away from Damon.

"Back off!"

Klaus looks up and stares into the faces of two blonde vampires, both fuming. It was Rebekah's voice he heard, but it's Caroline's facial expression that makes him come to his senses again. It's a mixture of anger, hurt and disappointment that is hard to bear, even for him.

But he wipes it away with a derisive laugh. "Two girls coming to Damon's rescue. Wonderful."

Caroline tosses him a glare. "Yeah. Turns out to be helpful from time to time to actually _have_ friends, right?" she scoffs before she turns to Damon, making it very clear where her loyalty lies; he's on his feet again, flanked by Rebekah and his brother. She rushes over to him, feeling oddly guilty about Klaus' behavior.

Damon however has no time to lose, so he cuts right to the chase. "Rebekah, we need to find your mother. Can you think of any place where she could hide?"

"What?" Rebekah eyes him feeling alarmed; she knows her own life is also at stake, after all. "What happened? What do you want from her?"

"She has Elena captured somewhere in a cave. And Esther…she did something to her, I'm guessing a spell. Elena can't move, and she can barely breathe…" Damon briefly closes his eyes to shut out the images of Elena in the cave. He swallows and grabs Rebekah's arm, clutching it so tight that it would've hurt if she weren't a vampire. "She's dying. If you have any idea where Esther could be, please tell me."

Before Rebekah can even think of anything, Klaus chimes in. "Wait. You think Mother has my doppelganger captured?" Not caring about Damon's sparking anger at his choice of words, Klaus gets to his feet, his distrust for the Salvatores visibly competing with the feeling of betrayal toward his mother. "And why would that be?"

"Because she joined the run for the Mother of the Year," Damon scoffs contemptuously.

Instantly rage flashes in the hybrid's eyes again, and his voice holds a threatening tone now. Menacingly stepping closer, he snarls, "What does that mean?"

"What Damon means to say," Stefan gives his brother a piercing glance before turning to Klaus and raising his hands mollifying, "is that your mother didn't tell you the truth about her intentions to come back."

"And why would you think you know the truth?"

"Because she told Elena; she needed her blood."

Klaus narrows his eyes at Stefan's words, obviously getting an idea about what his mother could have been up to. There's only one possible thing Elena would voluntarily give Esther her blood for. "She wants to kill me," he says hoarsely, and there's so much pain in his eyes that, despite everything he'd done, Caroline feels a twinge in her heart.

"She wants to kill us all, Nik. Her only goal in coming back was to 'undo the evil she created'." Rebekah huffs, irony dripping from her voice with every word falling from her lips.

For a moment, Klaus goes completely still. Then his body tenses, his hands clench into fists and open again. In a flash, he grabs his sister by her shoulders and slams her against the wall beside her, his face contorted with fury. "She can't kill me!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, but Rebekah has known him too long to be impressed. She flicks his hands away from her, shoves him back and glowers at him.

"It's not all about you. I told you, she wants to kill us all, probably even all vampires. Don't be such a baby, Nik." Klaus takes a hissing breath and glares back, but surprisingly calms down again.

Damon starts feeling on edge. "Listen, I don't want to interrupt your little sibling bonding moment, but we're wasting time; the ritual she planned had already happened, but as expected it failed. Your brother vanished by playing flame thrower and Mommy Dearest invaded Bonnie's body. I wasn't exaggerating, whatever your mother did to Elena, she's _dying_. She needs help, and fast," he urges, addressing Rebekah again. "She's being held captive in some kind of a cave, but it's not the one where you lived out your graffiti talents a millennium ago. So where could it be?"

But Rebekah shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head apologetically. Sympathy colors her voice when she answers, "I really have no clue. I only know the one you mentioned. We were not allowed to go down there, and usually it was best to adhere to the rules Father established. I know there are more caves, but I don't know of any entrance other than the one you already know. Sorry, Damon."

Despair flows through him hearing her answer; he knows they will lose Elena if they don't find her soon. He can't feel her anymore; the strange connection between them that had started to slowly fade away when he left her has eventually been severed. As long as he felt her, he knew she was alive; but now, without this reassurance, his anxiety grows every minute. He can't stop picturing her lying on the ground, motionless as he has seen her earlier; but in this image there's no audible sound, neither her heart beat nor her strained breathing. Nothing. He finds a brief release from the tormenting pictures in his head by slamming his fist against the wall, feeling the stinging pain in his knuckles; still, the fear remains until he hears one word murmured.

"Ayana."

It's Klaus uttering this name, his blank eyes latched onto the floor in front of him, as if he was in another world. He slowly lifts his gaze, and after sneaking a brief side glance toward Caroline, he searches for his sister's eyes. "Ayana's cavern. You remember them talking about it?"

Rebekah frowns. "Yes, but…"

"I've been there once," he interrupts her, "with Henrik." His eyes soften for a split second, but he quickly regains control, straightens and reluctantly turns toward Damon. "I know where it is."

"Then tell us," Damon presses. "You wouldn't want to lose your precious blood bag, now would you?"

Opening his mouth for a comment, Klaus' eyes fall on Caroline again. He sees her pleading look, breathes in deeply and swallows down the words lying on his tongue. He can't believe that he's doing it, acting like a pussy on her behalf, but he does. He rolls his eyes, and then, without meeting anyone's gaze, he says, "Let's go get her."

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* * *

><p>.<p>

It takes Kol several minutes to collect himself again.

Gale leads them to her living room, and with a look at Kol's pale face deciding to leave him a little time to come to his senses again, she vanishes into the kitchen. She busies herself with making coffee, trying and failing not to eavesdrop.

The brothers settle on the couch, each in one corner, and for a minute neither of them says a word. Kol's unseeing eyes are locked onto the floor while thoughts are racing through his mind.

When he eventually lifts his gaze, Elijah sees conflicting feelings in his brother's eyes; bewilderment, the incredible joy about seeing Gale alive, insecurity about what will happen now, all mingled together and momentarily covered by the feeling of betrayal against Gale _and_ his brother. Elijah now regrets not having prepared Kol for this turn of events; he should've known what it meant to his brother to meet Gale of all people.

Kol's voice sounds raw when he speaks again. "You knew. You knew it all along that she's still alive, didn't you?"

"Yes," Elijah answers tersely. Kol stares at him, seriously contemplating for a few moments whether or not to rip his brother's heart out; but the wave of fury washing over him fades quickly; he's just so happy to know that she's still alive. He doesn't know yet if it still counts for anything, but he wants to know where he stands; so he asks hesitantly, "Is she…with someone?"

"I don't know, Kol," Elijah replies softly, "I haven't seen her for as long as you have. I observed her sister over the years; she always kept in touch with Klaus, and I needed to know what he was up to. That's how I learned one day that Gale was also alive."

Kol nods; and then he asks for the second time within 10 minutes, "How is that even possible?" As Elijah just shakes his head and raises his brows, he adds tentatively, "Is she a…?"

"No; she aged, and she still does. Only not as fast as she should."

Kol nods again. Then a thought crosses his mind.

"She's the witch you wanted to meet? Why? What do you want from her?"

"That's what I would like to know." a female voice cuts in, and both vampires' heads turn toward the door frame where Gale is stepping through at this moment. She places a tray on the table in front of them, offering each a mug with steaming coffee.

Kol grabs one, takes a few sips and lets his eyes wander through the room until they get caught on a stack of liquor sitting on a sideboard. "If you don't mind, I could use something a little stronger…"

Gale waves her hand toward the bottles. "Help yourself." She turns to Elijah then, inclining her head a little to one side. "Why are you here after all these years?"

"What do you know about my mother?" he counters.

"I know that she was a powerful witch who turned you into vampires. She was friends with Ayana, an even more powerful witch."

"Not good enough." Elijah gives her a piercing glance.

"Both have been dead for a thousand years."

"That's where you're wrong. And I suppose you know that." His voice holds a slightly menacing tone now, but Gale isn't that easily intimidated. Raising her chin, she challenges, "Then tell me what you're assuming that I'd know."

Elijah exhales, backpedaling a little; he needs her alliance, so he changes his strategy. He rises to his feet and joins his brother at the liquor stack. Pouring himself two fingers of bourbon, he explains in a conversational tone, "I don't know about Ayana, but my mother was very much alive until last night." He turns and scrutinizes her closely; she looks back without batting an eye, meeting his gaze completely unimpressed. "Her spirit stayed in…kind of an intermediate world, if I understood that right, capable of coming back if the conditions were right."

Gale still doesn't show any sign of confirmation or of contradiction, her face still wears an inscrutable expression. So Elijah goes on, "Ayana preserved her body for over a millennium, and two witches of her lineage together had the ability to bring my mother back, to reunite her spirit with her body." He takes a sip of his bourbon, never letting Gale out of his sight. "She came back to kill all of us."

She doesn't want him to know; her face doesn't show any reaction, she stares back as unconcerned as before. But she can't prevent her heart from skipping a beat. Elijah arches his eyebrows, and a slight smile tugs the corners of his lips up; only a little, but enough to show his relief. "You didn't know that last part."

"No," she confirms, and now she allows her face to show emotions again. Her eyes flicker to Kol, and then she locks her gaze with the older brother's observing eyes. She takes a deep breath and admits, "And I didn't want that. If I had known, I would have warned you."

Elijah nods. He believes her; it's what he hoped for and a part of why he's here.

And then it dawns on her; with this new information it's not a big deal anymore to put the pieces together, and she raises one brow. "You want me to tell you a way to kill her," Gale asserts calmly, examining Elijah now much like he had examined her before, searching for any reaction; but she can't detect any.

"That," he concedes after a while, hesitating for a moment before going on,"and I want you to tell me if there might be another body being preserved…"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_Try to relax…_

Funny.

How is she supposed to relax if with every breath she's trying to take her body refuses even more to obey?

She's fighting to stay conscious, for a while now, but it's getting harder and harder. (She's so tired.) It started at some point after Damon left her, when the strength he gave her slowly faded away. She could still feel him for a while; his fear, occasionally desperation, blazing fury at one point. But now it's all gone, and the feeling of fear and loneliness threatens to overwhelm her.

It's so tempting to let the unconsciousness release her, not to suffer, not to be scared to death anymore; but she can't. It's a little like flipping the switch, to shut out every feeling to get rid of the bad ones; and now that she has to make this decision, she feels the need to stay true to her attitude, to what she always urged the Salvatores to do. So she fights.

And while she can't feel Damon's strength anymore, she still has his words to hold on to. _I'll come back, I promise…_

She's sure he will find her.

She just hopes it'll be in time…

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* * *

><p>.<p>

They sent Caroline to take Abby to the boarding house. Caroline had objected; she'd not been happy about being left out of the rescue mission, but Damon had cut her short.

"The witch would basically be in the way, Caroline; we can't use vamp speed with her in tow. You want to help Elena? Bring Mom Judgy to the boarding house and take care that she doesn't bolt again." Abby had shot him a killing glance, and Caroline still hadn't looked very convinced, but she'd nodded, grabbed Abby by her arm and dragged her toward the car.

Now they are blurring through the woods, four vampires at top speed, looking for the cave they hope Elena is captured in.

In the beginning, Klaus is very confident about the direction, but the deeper into the woods they get, the more he slows down, until eventually he comes to a halt.

"Oh, great. You have no clue where it is, do you?" Damon huffs impatiently, but the hybrid just raises his hand to hush him. They stand frozen for a few seconds, and the silence is absolute, as if no one was even there. Damon strains all his senses, reaching out for the merest hint of Elena or the witches, but he can't detect anything unusual.

Still, Klaus isn't just a vampire, and he uses his werewolf skills to their advantage now; he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply through his nose, taking in the faintest trace of smell not even the vampires' noses can pick up. "They were close," he murmurs; then he turns his head slightly to the left, opens his eyes and blurs in the direction the scent leads him. The others follow quickly, but after only a few hundred yards they stop dead in their tracks, finding themselves standing on a clearing with a pentagram drawn on the ground.

"That must be the clearing Abby had told us about," Stefan supposes. Rebekah stares at him, and then she slowly turns to the pentagram. "So it's here where Finn died…"

With unexpected gentleness Klaus wraps an arm around his sister's shoulders. "We don't know yet if he's really dead, Rebekah."

She nods, but she doesn't believe him. Looking around, she catches sight of Damon's face and sees the urgency in his eyes; she sighs. "Go ahead, Nik, look for the doppelganger bi…" She swallows down the rest of the word lying on her tongue and briefly wonders why she even bothers to do so. Then she realizes that her brother already blurred away, and like the Salvatores she hurries to follow him.

After half a mile they jerk to a halt again. Klaus has stopped and is standing in front of a giant rock; overgrown with ferns and moss, with bushes and even small trees as it is, it's barely visible from afar. The hybrid grabs a bunch of twigs of the bush right in front of him and bends it aside. Waving with his other hand toward a hole in the wall the bush was covering, obviously the entrance to a cave, he announces quietly, "Ayana's cavern."

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* * *

><p>.<p>

"_Ayana's cavern."_

Where did that come from? She assumes that she must have fallen asleep or been unconscious for a while. Either that and she dreamt it, or she's beginning to hallucinate, because she's sure that she heard a voice saying these words; and it makes absolutely no sense, since it was Klaus' voice she heard.

She must have dreamt it.

Still, she feels her heart beating frantically in her chest, and it's hard not to get her hopes up. She focuses on trying to hear anything else, but there's nothing.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

Damon moves to rush over to the cave's entrance, but he's stopped by his brother's hand lying on his arm. "Wait. She's a witch, Damon. If she's in there, she won't let us even near her, let alone rescue Elena. She'll kill us without batting an eye."

Damon stares at his brother, his eyes scanning Stefan's face for a few seconds. Then he locks their gazes and his eyes soften; he swallows. "I can't think of a better reason to die," he says gently, and Stefan understands. He remembers when it was him saying those words; they switched places, in more than one way, maybe irrevocably. He loosens his grip on Damon's arm, nods and lets go of him. "I got your back brother," he says hoarsely, and Damon nods just once, nearly imperceptibly. He turns to the cave's entrance again and rushes in.

The light from outside is swallowed by complete darkness as soon as Damon descends a roughly cut staircase and turns around the first corner. Needing no light due to his vampire senses, he dashes through endless tunnels winding deeper and deeper into the ground, Stefan hot on his heels. He wonders whether or not Esther, in Bonnie's body, could have dragged Elena down here.

The sudden fear of being in the wrong place or, even worse, being too late, chases him forward, until he comes to a sudden halt and gasps.

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* * *

><p>.<p>

For the next minute there's nothing.

As much as she focuses on her hearing sense, she can't perceive anything.

Still, suddenly she just knows, someone is there. Her stomach flutters as the fear tightens its grip on her, and now she's sure that it _was_ Klaus' voice she heard a minute ago. It must be a vampire in the cave with her now; no one else could've moved so quietly.

And then she hears it.

A gasp, and then a voice. Again.

This time it's _his_ voice.

"Elena!"

The very next moment she feels strong arms carefully scooping her up, holding her tight, a hand softly pressing her head against a chest, stroking her hair, a familiar scent hitting her nose. And then she feels tears of relief rolling over her temples, because she knows she's in his arms.

(She's finally safe.)

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* * *

><p>.<p>

The tunnel widens to a huge cavern, dimly lit by a low gleaming torch at the cavern's opposite side. He sees her immediately, lying on the floor in a corner exactly like he saw her when he was connected to her; but her heart beats faintly and her breathing is shallow, merely deep enough to give her lungs what they so desperately need.

"Elena!" he breaks the silence surrounding her since the day before, speaking around the knot building in his throat. In a flash he's at her side and sinks down on his knees; he carefully scoops her up on his lap, holding her tight, and it scares him how cold she feels and how limp she's lying in his arms. He sees two tears trailing down her temples, and his heart aches as he realizes that this is the only movement he sees from her at all. He furrows his brows, and biting his bottom lip, he chokes back the tears brimming in his eyes at the thought of how she must have felt for the last day. He gently strokes her hair, and anxious not to let her hear how frightened he still is, he says softly but fiercely, "I got you. I'm here." And then once more, "I'm here."

And really, her heartbeat seems to become a little stronger now, her breathing a fraction deeper. _Damon; I'm so glad you're here_… He doesn't really hear these words this time, he's not connected to her anymore; and yet, it _feels_ as if he could hear them. He just knows it's what she thinks, and his grip on her tightens a little.

Suddenly he becomes aware that Stefan stands right behind him. He turns his head, and when their eyes meet he sees that his brother is as scared as he is. He stands up and lets him see Elena.

"She will be okay." He tries to sound reassuringly, but he's not so sure if Stefan buys it. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait." Stefan grabs his shoulder and holds him back. He tips his head briefly toward the opposite wall of the cavern, and Damon raises one eyebrow at the sight of another figure lying on the ground.

"Esther?"

Stefan nods. "What do you think? We could destroy her body."

Damon tilts his head and eyes the witch's corpse for a moment; all the tension and the horror of the past hours morphs into hatred, directed against the woman whose empty shell is stored in front of them. He feels the urge to slam his fist into her chest, rip her heart out and tear her limb from limb for what she did to Elena; but for once he suppresses his impulse and holds back. Only his strained voice reveals how he feels. "We don't know if we still need the corpse to bring Bonnie back. Take her with us. Even if it's only to give the bitch a hard time with getting it back…"

Stefan nods again, bends down to lift Esther's body up and throws it over his shoulder, his fingers also gripping her body tighter than necessary.

"In my days men didn't speak in this disrespecting way about women, nor did they treat them like this," a sharp voice startles them. Both vampires turn around, even though they know whose voice they heard; they know it all too well.

On the other side of the cavern, in a corner scarcely lit by the torch's flare, stands a well known slender figure with curly brown hair. Bonnie…

Esther.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** You liked it? Or not?

Tell me, please; push the blue button below...

Even though the stats currently are working... :-)


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

**A/N:** 11 days! It's that long ago that I posted the last chapter, and for that I'm soo sorry! Never before it took me so long; to my excuse, I had 3 sick kids at home for 9 days, made writing impossible.

But - here it is, a nicely painted easter egg.

A huge thank you to all my fabulous reviewers, it means so much to me to read your words!

A special thanks to my wonderful beta Kymberleii, who also had a crappy week and still took the time for beta reading ... :-)

Here it goes; enjoy...

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 8**

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* * *

><p>.<p>

Damon stares at the girl standing in front of them and his heart sinks. He realizes that there must be another entrance to the cave; otherwise she couldn't have gotten here in that short amount of time, and they would've heard her coming anyway. He thinks of all those witchy migraines that this very brain has given him; and even though it's not really Bonnie staring back, he knows, with their scooped up load in their arms they don't stand a chance against her. Esther possessing this girl is no change for the better, and she seems determined to not let them leave.

But of course he can't let her pass with her comment about how to treat a woman. "Don't pout; actually a woman of your age should consider herself lucky to be reckoned as a bitch," he taunts, covering his face with a mask of derision.

However, his attempt to elicit any reaction leaves the witch unperturbed. She just raises her chin slightly as if preparing for resistance. "Put the bodies down!" she commands, her voice ice cold.

Damon narrows his eyes, and he feels the slight shift in Stefan's stance more than he sees it; he knows that his brother also recognized what little chance they've been given. But for now they have to play along; she expects resistance, so she gets it.

"No," he says with conviction in his voice. He hears Elena's shallow heartbeat picking up the pace, and he knows she's scared; but apart from lightly squeezing her with his fingers he can't care about it now. He prepares for Esther's reaction, and it comes right away.

"No?" she gives a brief laugh, and then the expected all consuming pain sets in, and his head immediately feels as if it's going to explode.

He tries to remain standing upright, but after a few seconds his legs buckle and he sinks to his knees. Beneath the pain, that usually is blocking everything beside it, now lingers the knowledge that he can't let Elena drop down; she's too weak. He trembles from pain and from the effort to keep her securely in his arms, but his grip on her never loosens.

And then the pain is gone as suddenly as it had begun. Heavily breathing he turns toward Stefan, who fell to the ground, Esther's dead body lying crumpled next to him; he's more affected by the pain than Damon is, but he also slowly regains his strength.

A derisive laugh draws their attention, and Damon turns toward the witch.

"You're fairly strong for such a young vampire. I admit I didn't expect that." She steps closer, her face changing, the mock admiration wiped away in a blink, leaving only coldness. "I suggest you reconsider," she hisses. "Put her down."

Damon glares at her, but then he caves in and gently lays Elena back to the ground.

(He hopes that she trusts him not to leave her alone again.)

The moment his arms are freed of their responsibility though, he lunges at Esther, and from the corner of his eye he sees that his brother does the same.

However, it's futile.

Before they even get to her, the pain hits them again. Barely a minute after her first attack, both vampires are writhing on the ground, their screaming echoing from the cave walls; and Damon knows, this time she won't let them get away anymore. He tries to focus on the scared girl who's racing heart he can still hear, despite the pain and the screams; tries to tear strength from the fact that she's going to die without their help, that she _needs_ him. But he can't. His brain feels as if it's dissolving into a mushy mass, he can barely remember his name. The pain in his head reaches the point where it spreads out through all the body, whirring down the nerve tracts down to his finger tips and to his toes. Only once before it had been that far gone, had made him slide close to the abyss, and his damaged brain conjures up the vague memory of a girl jumping through fire to save him.

This time, sudden noises drag him away from the brink; a deep growl, followed by a terrified shriek and then a loud thud.

The pain ebbs away, and after a few moments of recovering, still feeling sore all over his body and gasping for air, he lifts his head to see a wolf attacking the witch; he knows it must be Klaus in his werewolf form. It sinks its teeth into her shoulder, tearing the flesh apart and then locking its jaws in her rib cage. Damon numbly watches the scenario, unable to think straight; until he sees his brother struggling to his feet.

"He's killing Bonnie!" he yells, and the next moment Stefan blurs to the werewolf and hauls it aside. And suddenly Damon's ability to think coherently kicks in again; Bonnie's body can't be killed! What would happen to Esther then? Would she choose another body to invade? Elena's body. He can't let that happen; it might eventually kill Elena. He leaps up and sees Bonnie's body lying limp on the ground, scarcely conscious. He rushes over to her, vamping out and biting his wrist open in the process. He crouches down, turns her around as far as necessary to have access to her mouth and forces his blood between the witch's lips, not caring about the horrified stare he receives from her. Lifting his eyes to observe his surroundings he sees the werewolf, ready to attack Stefan, and while Damon hesitates for a split second until it registers what is happening, it lunges forward.

Before he can react, he feels a gust of wind, vaguely detects a vision of blond hair, and hears a fierce voice. "Stop!" Rebekah's there, sending the wolf flying through the air again, crashing against the wall and falling to the ground; yet, within a mere second it's on its feet again, turning toward them.

Rebekah just glowers at the wolf and steps menacingly closer to it. "Get out. You're done here," she states firmly; and while Damon still figures that it won't be that easy to fend off the hybrid in its wolf form, the animal stops in its tracks as if contemplating its sisters words; and then it turns around and disappears in a flash.

Damon arches his brows in surprise. "Wow!" He grins at her. "For the record, it's not the worst thing in the world to have you on our side. You sure know how to pet a werewolf." Rebekah wryly grins back.

"Where is she?" Stefan's alarmed voice interrupts them, and turning around, Damon sees what his brother's talking about; the witch is gone, and with a twinge of horror he whirls around to the place he laid Elena down a few minutes ago. Relief washes through his veins at the sight of the girl still lying there, motionless as before, but her heart still beating.

He hurries over to her and scoops her up in his arms again, his tight hold on her a promise to not let go of her again. He gently brushes a strand of hair out of her face, cupping her cheek for a second. Then he lifts his head, and realizing that Stefan is also carrying Esther's corpse again, he announces, "Let's get our asses home."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

It's utterly quiet after Elijah's words; for a few moments, none of them moves or says a word. Gale and Kol exchange a bewildered look, the witch obviously as clueless as the Original.

Elijah eyes Gale attentively, then turns toward the liquor cabinet after a while and refills his glass. Her reaction speaks volumes; she doesn't know about another preserved body, which probably means that there isn't one. He sighs quietly, fighting against the disappointment that threatens to elicit more of a reaction from him than he likes to show.

At first it had been just a crazy thought crossing his mind when Esther showed up; but after seriously contemplating it, weighing the pros and cons and turning it over in his mind again and again, he came to the conclusion that it might be not such a crazy thought as he had assumed after all. Ayana had been the kind of person doing things like that, which she had proven with helping their mother to get revived. And if she could do that with Esther, why not preserving someone else she might need later?

In the end he had been quite certain to be right about it; the letdown of having been wrong stings like an open wound now. Not to mention that this leaves him without any considerable plan. He takes a sip of his bourbon, and in an afterthought he lifts the tumbler to his lips again and knocks back its content in one gulp, that in itself showing the extent of his frustration.

That's when Gale's hesitant voice draws his attention. "I might not know about another body Ayana kept safe somewhere; but that doesn't necessarily mean she didn't. Maybe I could find out more if I knew about who you're looking for?"

Elijah spins around and watches her carefully, and immediately hope punches its way back into his heart. Gale's not afraid of him, she never was. She actually said what she said just because she sees a chance, because she knows a whole lot about Ayana's way of thinking. He knows that she was connected to the witch's spirit more than once. She's right; maybe she can find out something if she knows who he's talking about. Ayana should be on board with what he's trying to accomplish after all.

As if on cue, Kol chimes in. "Yes brother, I would also love to know who you want to summon from back in the good old days. You really want to resurrect someone else? Fine; it's not like a revived body from the past could do any harm to anyone… Oh wait, what was Mother up to again?" He glares at his older brother, clearly not trusting his choice to bring back _anybody_ else from the past. His ability to accept the appearance of unexpected persons from back in the days is stretched to the limits; not that he's complaining about the woman in front of him, but that roller coaster has been a tad too much for today.

Elijah pensively looks at him. Kol has a point; if he really found her, could she be a threat to them? He can't picture her as a danger, then again…

"No," he decides, "this is different. I'm not looking for a witch; if we found her, she would be no match for us."

"Then tell us who the hell we're looking for," Gale prods.

Elijah breathes deeply in and out. He knows how this looks like, that he'll have some serious explaining to do. That it's not him pining over a girl for a thousand years, but that he has something completely different in his mind than they might think.

(Though he can't prevent his heart from making an uncontrollable leap in his chest at the thought of perhaps having her back soon.)

"Tatia. I'm looking for Tatia."

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* * *

><p>.<p>

"Damon!"

The urge to get to the boarding house as fast as he can is strong, and it increases with stepping out of the cavern. Maybe it's the brightness of the sunny day that makes him feel the worry surrounding them like a bell jar even more. But there's something in Rebekah's voice that holds him back. He turns around and meets her gaze, and in her eyes he sees it too; only for a split second, but it's there, even if he can't place it right now.

(Humanity.)

"What is it?" He forces himself to stay calm, but his voice is tense with barely concealed impatience.

"You might need another witch," she says while she casually glances at the motionless girl in his arms. He knows that whatever it was that he saw, she is hiding it now. "Yours seems to be a little...out of order lately."

"Oh, we have one," Damon snorts disdainfully. "I just don't know if she will be of any help; she's not exactly the kind of witch you'd trust with your life." His eyes drop down on Elena's face and his heart clenches at the sight of her pale face and her strained breathing. "Who the hell could be that cruel?" he asks quietly.

"Our mother," a third voice speaks up with a trace of bitterness, and both vampires turn their head to see Klaus approaching them, fully dressed, but still buttoning up the lower buttons of his shirt. He joins them, and Damon is sure that he detects a hint of compassion flickering in the hybrid's eyes. He tears his gaze away from Klaus immediately; he's not in the slightest interested in seeing any sign of kindness in their enemy, and when he notices Klaus' hand lifting to touch Elena's cheek, he steps back without a second thought, bringing her out of his reach. Klaus looks up and the usual amused smile appears on his face, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Always the white knight, right? Don't worry; I won't hurt her. Remember? I still need her."

"Oh, right. You need her blood to create your fabulous hybrids, to sire yourself some friends, right?"

Damon sees anger flashing in Klaus' face at his words, and he knows that once more it wasn't the voice of reason speaking of him. (He thinks that he and the voice of reason will never be bff's.) Klaus steps up to Damon, and his voice is dangerously quiet and calm.

"You have a remarkable way of showing your gratefulness."

Damon raises his eyebrows. "You mean your save-the-day mission earlier? Would you prefer me to react the way Caroline did, when she went all lovey-dovey on you after saving her from the damage _you_ had done?" Damon can feel Elena's heart pounding against his chest. He knows that she hates him right now for not being capable of controlling himself, but he can't help it; he just has to lash out at the damned hybrid who had destroyed so much. "I'm not her," he hisses, stepping closer. "You can't talk me into believing that deep down, you're a nice guy, just because you rescued your blood donor and my brother and me in the process. You're not, and we both know that. So get your fingers off of her." Damon is seething with fury inside, and if it wasn't for the girl in his arms, he would punch the smug grin that has reappeared on Klaus' features right off of his face. But as it is, Elena needs to be taken to Abby, and he lets himself calm down a little of Rebekah's hand placed on his arm.

"I can assure you that I'm not interested in pretending anything, the least to be a nice guy. I have no reason to, have I? Whatever I'll want to have, I'll take it." His face loses all its smugness; coldness wipes away the grin now. "I suggest you reconsider your attitude against me. I only allow you to keep your girl as long as I don't need her. The moment I have to dread that she isn't safe with you for my requirement, I will take her away from you, and you'll never see her again. Do we understand each other?"

Damon doesn't flinch, ignoring his dropping stomach in the face of the ever lingering menace Klaus has called back to his mind. "I got it. You absolutely need to keep her safe since she is your only possible way of creating friends …" he scoffs.

"I'm not inclined to the human need for friends. I have my family back," Klaus asserts with a brief look at Rebekah, who much to his anger, still holds her hand on Damon's arm.

"Yeah, right. Because you're such a _happy_ hybrid with _such_ a loving family; a father who always hated you, a mother who wants to kill you and two brothers…" Damon doesn't get further. Not caring about Elena, Klaus lunges at him as rage overwhelms him, tossing Damon a few yards back through the air. He manages just in time to lift Elena's head up, pressing it firmly against his chest, before they land hard on the ground. He jumps back to his feet immediately, bracing himself for the impact of the next attack.

It never comes.

He sees Rebekah grabbing her brother's arm and spinning him around to face her.

"What is wrong with you? You could've killed your doppelganger!" she yells at him. "Why does it have so much power over you, if someone insults your…" She pauses as understanding dawns on her at the sight of the fury in his face. "…your family," she adds quietly; then she lets go of him and steps back. Klaus glares at his sister, but eventually the anger begins to fade away. Rebekah decides to change the subject. "Let's get the hell away from here. Try to track down Mother, or contact a witch or do anything else useful on the way to kill her; you wouldn't want to let her kill _us_, now would you?" she snaps as she grabs his arm again and drags him away with her, neither of them bothering to glance back.

Damon stares after them, watching them blurring away, when he suddenly becomes aware of the racing heartbeat coming from the girl in his arms. He looks down at her face, and once again he has to fight back tears at the view of the complete motionlessness. He swallows them down together with the horror of losing her. "He's gone," he explains quietly, suddenly remembering that she can't see anything. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have provoked him…It's just…" He trails off. Everything he could say to his defense would be another proof of him caring too much. _It's not like everything I'd done for the last hours hadn't been proof enough_…

He takes a deep breath and is just about to finally leave toward the boarding house when Stefan suddenly shows up, the worry on his face turning to relief as he sees his brother and Elena.

"Everything's okay?"

A look in Stefan's face confirms Damon's sneaking suspicion. _Speaking of caring_…"Just a little run-in with Klaus…all's peachy keen now. Let's go."

And together they finally blur home.

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><p>.<p>

Elena wakes up from the feeling of a cool hand on her cheek. She knows instantly that it's Caroline's hand; she never would've thought that she was able to recognize her friend from her scent, but reduced to the other senses apart from seeing she is. And if Caroline's here it means that she's safe. Except that she still can't move or breathe, meaning she's still dying. Oh well.

"You're awake again, right? I can hear it from your heartbeat…" She can hear her friend's voice hitching slightly, but obviously Caroline regains her composure fast. She's Caroline after all, the queen of mask-wearing. "You're at the boarding house; you're safe, Elena. Abby's figuring out how to lift the spell. You'll be okay soon." She feels her hand being taken into Caroline's hands, held tight to reassure her.

Sadly it doesn't work. The mentioning of Abby reminds her of the fact that Bonnie's not here to help her, and her trust in Abby isn't that big; remembering the words Damon said to Rebekah about the witch doesn't help in that department.

She hears him pacing back and forth, clearly nervous, when someone else enters the room; without uttering a single word, she then hears both of them leaving.

"That was Stefan," Caroline informs her, "Abby probably found something." She becomes silent as if eavesdropping to what Elena can't hear anymore; after a moment she breathes in sharply through her nose, sounding remarkably like gasping although she seems to try to stifle the sound with her hand; it's not bound to make Elena feeling any better. "Did I tell you about the cute shoes I discovered last week in this tiny shop?" Caroline suddenly starts to tell her friend, her voice a little higher and a little louder than usually; distraction, that's what it is.

Sadly this doesn't work either. Elena doesn't even listen; the upside of being damned to motionlessness is that her friend doesn't notice that she isn't interested at all in the babbling. She tries to focus on voices she can't hear, and her heart jumps when she finally hears the door being opened and Damon's footsteps on the floor approaching hesitantly.

(Since when does she even recognize his footsteps on the floor?)

"Caroline, leave us alone, please," he says softly, and Elena searches in vain for relief in his voice; instead all she can hear is worry, and him using her friend's actual name doesn't do anything to give her hope.

After a light squeeze on her hand, Caroline places it back beside her, stands up and reluctantly leaves the room.

She senses him kneeling down beside her, and for some reason she realizes now that she must be lying on a couch in the parlor of the boarding house; she feels the velvety fabric beneath her hand, smells the familiar scent of old wood, smoke and bourbon, hears the fire crackling.

(She doesn't want to hear what he's about to say.)

He seizes her hand with his just like Caroline before him, only his are warm; he presses their linked hands against his chest, stroking hers with his thumb, bracing himself for telling the truth.

"Elena, listen to me," he begins hoarsely, and then he clears his throat and swallows, going on more confidently than before. "Esther cast a paralysis spell on you, which normally excludes the diaphragm, the muscle that makes you capable of breathing; because it is a spell that isn't meant to kill. But without renewing the spell every now and then, after a while the breathing protection that is included in the spell begins to lose its effect; what means the paralysis begins to slowly take over the diaphragm too. Abby can't lift this spell. But she gave me the address of another witch who might be able to. It's just…we have to take you there, and it's in South Carolina, which means it's a ride of an entire day." He pauses, and she doesn't have to see him to know what he looks like, worry about her deeply etched in his features; she can almost see it behind her closed eyelids. She can tell that he's terrified that she won't survive long enough, and she thinks he's right. Going to South Carolina means a ride of at least 10 or 12 hours, and she feels like she will not even survive another hour.

For the first time since Esther has turned her into a mere piece of flesh, desperation threatens to lay thick and heavy over her. For the first time she regrets now not having tried to fix what she had broken at the ball when she had the opportunity to do so.

Because now she's afraid that all of her fighting was in vain, that she will never have another opportunity again.

That she will leave him behind with this.

(Breaking him even more.)

He loosens one of his hands from hers and raises it to her head instead, gently cupping her cheek, caressing it. She wants to lean into his hand, and it makes her scream inwardly that she can't do it. As if he could feel it, he moves his hand, applies the tiniest bit of pressure so that it at least feels like she's leaning into it.

(She wished she could tell him how good it feels.)

"Abby will give you herbs that can help to strengthen you. But there is something _I_ can do to help you, and I will." He pauses again, and she wonders what it could be making him afraid to tell her, because she knows that's what he is. What could it even be that he could do to help her, apart from just being there? (This helps more than she is willing to admit.) And all of a sudden she knows, and immediately she feels anger flaring deep down within her. No. He wouldn't do that. It's the one thing he _never_ would do to her, isn't it? He _knows_ how she thinks about it. Then again…A long buried memory of blood in her mouth, _his_ blood, violently shoved down her throat, rushes to the surface, and she knows he would do everything to keep her safe. His next words confirm her suspicion.

"I know that you'll hate me for this, but I'm doing it anyway. You can yell at me when the spell is lifted; I can handle you yelling at me. What I can't handle is you being dead. Look," he takes a shuddery breath, "when I brought you here, you fell asleep in my arms."

She remembers the feeling of safety she had while he blurred through the woods, her body securely pressed against his; and she remembers also that for the first time since Esther had spelled her, she had the feeling to be able to let go. She hears him swallowing again, and she knows that he is moved by the trust she showed him with falling asleep in his arms.

"And while you slept," he goes on, his voice even softer than before, "your breathing became a little easier. Not much, but it might be the bit that helps you to survive the ride. But you will never sleep through the entire journey to South Carolina, so I will make you."

She's torn. Her body yearns for release in any way possible, for the soothing of her burning lungs, for not feeling the ache of taking a shallow breath anymore. For finally not being scared of dying anymore. Yet, her mind is not thrilled by the image of being messed with, and she's not even sure if the vervain that she ingested is out of her system. However, she feels that he lets go of her hand and cradles her head in both his hands now, turning it a little in his direction. Then he carefully lifts her eyelids with his thumbs, turning her head a little more to meet her gaze.

And finally she sees again. She sees his face.

And this time she can't avert her eyes.

It happens completely unexpected. She's not prepared for this. She has seen him vulnerable before, open, honest, hurt. But never like this. Never with his guard completely down, defenseless. And seeing his overwhelming fear, for the first time she realizes the extent of his love for her. She feels tears welling up and spilling, and she can see that he feels guilty, that he thinks that she's crying because he's about to compel her. In reality it's just because she can't accomplish what she longs to do; throwing her arms around his neck and comforting him, telling him that she will be okay, that she won't yell at him.

That she understands. Because she does. With a sudden clarity she understands that he can't stand to see her suffering anymore, that he would have to compel her even if her life wasn't depending on it, simply to stop this torment. Even though he's so sure that she will hate him for doing this.

Even though he's so sure that she thinks he cares too much.

And only now she's terrified of the compulsion, because she's terrified to lose this memory. She feels her tears running down her temples, and she wished she could stop them, but she can't. Damon tenderly wipes them away.

"I will compel you to sleep, and I promise to wake you as soon as we'll arrive." He locks their eyes again, and he whispers, "I'm sorry; I have to."

And then she feels caught in his eyes, as if nothing else existed. From far away she hears his voice; soft, warm, comforting. "You will sleep until I wake you. You'll not be afraid in your sleep."

The last thing she sees before she falls asleep is his face.

She doesn't feel his light kiss on her forehead anymore.

She sleeps.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** I really hope it was worth the wait...

Please tell me, hit the button :-)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

**A/N:** Just a tiny delay this time...

Wow, guys, you totally rock! I thank you all soo much for your awesome reviews; especially those I couldn't PM!

I'm so glad you're all still with me!

So, stopp with the babbling, here it goes...

Enjoy!

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 9**

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><p>.<p>

Chanting.

This is still the one thing both vampires aren't entirely comfortable with, after all those centuries of dealing with the servants of nature, even raised by a witch. And so they watch Gale suspiciously, the youngest and the oldest of the Originals equally concerned about not having control over what she is doing and about what she might find out.

Kol gives his brother a questioningly glance, but Elijah just shrugs. After observing Gale a few more moments, Kol can't stand to just sit and watch any longer. He jumps to his feet, and for lack of something better to do, he walks over to the liquor cabinet and pours himself another drink. Sadly this occupies only a few seconds of his time, so he finds himself restlessly pacing around like he was before.

He forces himself to come to a halt and leans against a sideboard, his gaze drifting reluctantly back to the chanting woman sitting crossed legs on the floor.

He still can't believe it. Gale is alive. The woman who once made him feel like he had never expected to be capable of feeling. Like he had never even _wanted_ to feel. The one he was willing to give up the life that he had lead for nine centuries for; the sort of life he actually had _loved_ to lead.

The woman his pain-in-the-ass-brother had daggered him for. Not because he had wanted her for himself; just because he didn't want one of his siblings show any kind of weakness. (Because he wanted _him_ for himself.)

The woman his last thoughts before turning ashen and veiny had flown to; the one forming the first coherent images in his mind after he was awaken almost a century later, all his longing still clinging to her; until the cruel truth about the length of his being dead was revealed.

The woman who was supposed to be dead.

The woman he still loved.

And who, against all odds, was still very much alive.

Kol sucks in a breath, trying desperately to distract himself from the spinning wheel that his mind had become since the moment he first laid eyes on Gale today; he can't deal with this now. Not when he can't do anything but watch her chanting.

He turns to his brother, suddenly aware that he still has no clue about what Elijah's goal is in finding Tatia. He decides that prodding his brother to divulge more of his plan is as good as distraction as anything. "Why Tatia? What are you trying to achieve? Or do you just want to have your girl back?"

Elijah looks up at him, signaling with his raised eyebrows that he thinks his brother should know better than to ask him this. Kol sighs.

"Okay, I get it. It's not just for having wild and crazy reunion sex. So what is it you're up to? You kept me in the dark since we started our funny trip, and it's getting tedious." The candles that are strewn throughout the room suddenly blaze up, briefly tearing Kol's attention away. He gazes at Gale, whose chanting gets a note of urgency now, her face taking in a pained expression.

He hates it. Everyone and everything. He hates his brother for throwing him only tidbits of information, Gale for doing her witchy things; the flaring candles, himself for being in this mess and not knowing how to react. And suddenly his facial expression changes too; the anger he kept contained all day long suddenly sweeps to the surface.

"God dammit, Elijah, tell me!" he hisses; he doesn't dare to yell, but somehow he has to vent his anger, and so he grabs the chair next to him and hurls it across the room. Too late he becomes aware that he might as well have yelled; it crashes against the wall and shatters into pieces under the impact.

The very same moment when the noise of the crashing chair startles the vampires, the candles go out and the witch's chanting stops. The following silence is deafening; Kol's head jerks around to Gale, and when he detects her slumped down on the floor, he blurs to her and scoops her carefully in his arms. He gently lays her on the couch and wipes away the blood trickling from her nose.

"Gale," he says quietly, and a hint of desperation makes his voice crack slightly.

"She will be okay, Kol. Her heart is beating strong," Elijah placates his brother. "It's not the first time that you have witnessed a witch's breakdown, you know how this works."

The words have merely left his lips when Gale opens her eyes. She looks around, obviously confused, until her eyes latch onto Elijah. The confusion on her face momentarily shifts to an expression of fear, but it fades away quickly. She takes a deep breath and asserts, "I found her."

.

With both hands Gale clutches the mug with steaming coffee in it, lifts it up to her mouth and takes a careful sip. She tears her gaze back from afar and turns her attention to Elijah.

""I met my sister, and…" she begins, but she's instantly interrupted by the older Original.

"Wait, Gloria is dead?" Elijah asks incredulously. "I'm sorry to hear that; she was a wise witch and a wonderful woman. How did that happen?"

Gale lets out an unhappy laugh. "Vampire, what else? The witches' eternal problem of being dragged into vampire issues…" She turns her head toward Kol when she hears him quietly hissing, and briefly a soft smile plays around her lips, but she doesn't respond. "So, Gloria told me that she has contact with Ayana. She knew already that Esther had been resurrected and tried and failed to kill you. Unlike many other witches, Gloria has no interest in killing all vampires; they always respected her, even Klaus did; and she even shared a bond of friendship with some of them, so she kept her eyes and ears open. And what she found out confirms what you assumed, Elijah."

He examines her calmly, only a small sparkle in his eyes gives away his excitement. "Tatia?"

The witch nods, but Elijah notices her hesitating, and he knows that he won't like what she'll tell them. "What's wrong?" he asks cautiously, and when she takes her time to answer, his mind begins to conjure images of different possibilities of how things could turn out badly for them. Yet, when Gale unfolds the problem, he finds that he wasn't prepared for the most obvious one.

"There will be someone else looking for Tatia's body to resurrect her."

Elijah's eyes fall shut and he takes a hissing breath.

"Mother."

Gale nods, concern written all over her face. Like Gloria, she shares a bond of friendship with some vampires, and she really doesn't want them dead. And there's still Kol…

The younger brother speaks up for the first time since Gale became conscious again. "Wait; you said 'will be someone else', as in 'right now there still isn't', right?" When she nods again, he grabs Elijah's arm. "Then we should perhaps get into motion, don't you think? We have to be faster to get her. Uh…," he turns to Gale again. "You know where to find her, right?" He gives her a piercing glance, trying to get the right answer with his sheer will.

Elijah takes Kol's hand and removes it from his arm, and for the first time since they have met again after climbing out of their coffins, his calmness seems to get a slight crack. He silences his brother with a single look, and then he addresses the witch. "So her blood could still be used after all that time." Gale nods. "And since Esther will be looking for her, it can be used to kill us, I presume." Another nod of the witch. "Because her blood was used to turn us. What would happen to us?"

"It would take the vampire curse away. It would turn you human again, but since you're technically dead, you would be dead the next moment." This time both vampires raise their brows in unison to exchange a look before they nod to Gale's explanation. "As for why you came here…I'm guessing you wanted to use it differently, right?" She looks at Elijah attentively as he stands up and walks over to the window. He gazes out over the fields stretching behind the house. For a while he marvels in the beauty of the sunset; it's rare that he takes the time for doing so; he saw the sun going down so often over the centuries that at some point he had stopped to pay attention. Now he thinks that it has been a mistake; that he should've appreciated the beauty of life more than he did. A thought of Klaus crosses his mind; unlike love that he despised as weakness, this is something that his brother never had given up on. Even though he could be beyond cruel, on the other hand he always had an eye for the beautiful things in life, and his enthusiasm never failed to infect Elijah.

Months ago, before the sacrifice happened, he had told Elena that he had once loved his brother. He hadn't been entirely honest that day. Despite everything he never stopped loving him…

But he can't back down anymore; there's not enough good within Klaus to outweigh the evil, to outweigh all the destruction he leaves in his wake.

He closes his eyes, and a deep breath heaves his chest. With as much determination as he can muster, he turns around and braces for confessing his intentions.

"I hoped that it could be used for letting the world finally get rid of Niklaus."

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><p>.<p>

Damon finds his brother on the back porch.

He leans against the banister, his forearms braced on it, his hand holding a tumbler filled with bourbon. He stares blankly into the distance, encased by a sadness that is almost tangible. Damon hesitates; he feels like invading a very private moment. Normally he would have no qualms to mock his brother, to throw around some cocky one-liners about brooding and wrinkled foreheads; but today there's more to that than the usual moping and self loathing. It goes deeper, and who could blame him? A lot has happened lately to cause enough sadness for a whole lot more people than there are to shoulder the burden.

Still; he thinks of Elena, and deciding that there is no time for that right now he steps closer. He joins him at the banister, mirrors his stance. He grabs the tumbler from his hand and gulps down half of the bourbon before he hands the rest back to Stefan.

It's one of the rare moments when a comfortable silence settles between the brothers; when both feel close to each other, despite the rivalry always lingering beneath.

(When both can feel their mutual love they always deny.)

After a long while Damon eventually breaks the silence, his voice low and almost tender. "When did you ditch human blood?"

Stefan tears his gaze back from afar and looks at his brother for a few seconds, and then his eyes drop to his glass. "Wickery Bridge," he says, and after another brief side glance toward Damon he ads, "How'd you know?"

Damon snorts. "Please. I've known you for more than a few days, brother, and it's not the first time I've seen you struggle."

Wickery Bridge. That's what he assumed. He didn't witness that incident, but picked up the pieces afterward. And as much as he admired his brother's villain move, as much he hated what it did to Elena. He thinks that maybe, if she would be forced to pick out the worst thing happening to her during the last year, she'd pick this incident. (It shattered her trust into thousands of pieces.)

Because it was Stefan of all people, and even if he had pretended not to feel anything that night, hell, even yesterday, she had known better. Stefan wasn't blinded by a flipped switch; he saw the pain he caused. And he knows that it was over the line. So yeah, Damon can understand that his brother decided to go back to bambi blood afterward.

"I'll never forget that look in her eyes," Stefan suddenly says quietly.

Damon looks up at him and swallows; _this_ is something he understands all too well, and he knows that Stefan is right about it. He _will_ never forget. Damon has his very own experience about that; her eyes after him breaking Jeremy's neck still haunt him. He studies Stefan, and his heart clenches at the desperation his little brother's face wears. No snarky comment comes to his mind; instead he offers the only words of comfort he can think of. "She will forgive you."

Stefan closes his eyes in defeat. "I don't think so."

With furrowed brows and the hint of an ironical smile Damon glances at him. "It's Elena we're talking about. I killed her brother and she still forgave me."

Stefan sighs. "Damon, this is something different…"

"How is this something different?" Damon interrupts him incredulously. "What could be less forgivable than killing her _brother_? Right in front of her eyes?"

"He came back to live," Stefan points out, but Damon cuts him short again.

"Yeah, but I didn't know that. Sure, she would've never forgiven me if he really had been dead, but that's not the point; I didn't know about the ring; and let's face it, that _is_ unforgivable. You however didn't drive her from the bridge…"

Stefan shakes his head and closes his eyes again in an attempt to shut out the images of that night, but it's futile. They will always be there to remind him, he's sure about that.

"That doesn't make it undone only because in the end I didn't kill her. I still put her through the pain to relive her parent's death. Not to mention the horror of me attempting to turn her."

"But I…" Damon starts, but he doesn't get further.

"Do you know what the difference is, Damon? You did it for love. I did it for revenge; and I didn't just snap like you did; I planned it. I _knew_ how cruel it was, and I did it anyway." Stefan grabs his brother's arm and spins him around, staring at him with his face twisted in pain. "I knew exactly what I was doing, that I would hurt her in the worst way possible, and I …" He trails off, his shoulders sag and he lets go of Damon's arm. He turns back to the banister. "I did it anyway," he whispers. And then, barely audible he adds, "And to be honest, I don't know what would've happened if Klaus hadn't agreed…"

Damon is taken aback, by the sudden outburst as well as by the quiet confession, and he has nothing left to say. He knows, this time there are no words capable of comforting Stefan; he has to live with this. The only thing he can do is to be there, to be with him for a while; he gently lays a hand on his brother's arm for a few seconds, then he also braces himself on the banister again. He watches as Stefan knocks back the rest of his bourbon after a minute and then says, "Maybe I don't want her to forgive me."

Damon raises his brows in disbelief. "What?" His voice is quiet, almost anxious; he's not sure if he wants to hear this.

"I'm not convinced that I'm not a threat for her. Not forgiving me would at least protect her from wanting to be with me again, from maybe putting her in danger again."

Damon gazes at his brother, and he admires him for even thinking like that. He knows that he never could. He remembers the days after force feeding her his blood, and that everything he did aimed solely for receiving her forgiveness. "That's why you're back to bambi blood," he cautiously reminds Stefan, but he knows in advance what his answer will be. And sure enough it comes.

"Still. I could lose control anytime again. And you of all people know that."

Damon lets out a heavy sigh. "So what are you saying, you're giving up on her?"

"I'll never give up on her," Stefan replies, smiling weakly, "that's kinda why I hope she does…"

Damon stares at his brother and suddenly it dawns on him why Stefan had acted like a dick all that time, had still pretended not to feel. He simply had hoped to push her to a decision that he couldn't make…

Caroline suddenly cuts in, quickly approaching them, blissfully oblivious to what she interrupts. "Guys? We're done."

Both vampires turn to her, and Caroline explains, "Abby made an herb paste, and I applied it on Elena's chest. But you should get your asses in gear now, it will only help a little; Abby contacted that witch in South Carolina, she's waiting for you."

Damon inhales deeply and straightens up. They can go on talking in the car after all. He turns to follow Caroline, who already went back into the house, but Stefan grabs his arm and holds him back.

"Damon…I'm not coming." His voice is low, but firm.

Damon cocks his head and frowns; then he slowly turns back. "What, you're pussying out now? Why? Maybe…she'll need you." He forces a smirk on his face. "And then I'll be there, throwing my hero hairdo in the race, acting all like her savior, winning points and stealing your girl."

Stefan gives him a long look; then he shakes his head. "She's not mine to steal. Not anymore. Right now she'll need _you_." The smirk is gone in a second, replaced by a strange mixture of sympathy, concern and insecurity. When Damon opens his mouth to object, Stefan raises his hand to stop him. "You were the one to find a connection to her when I failed. I don't like it, but right now I'm of no use to her. Plus I have to go hunting, and there'll be no time for this on the way to South Carolina. And I don't want to leave Caroline alone with Abby _and_ with Esther in the basement. Trust me, it's the right thing to do, and I really would like to do the right thing for once."

Damon eyes his brother thoroughly, and he finds him changed. He hasn't been that confident since Klaus released him from his compulsion; for the first time, the grim, almost ferocious determination he wore for weeks has left him; it's not the need for revenge defining him anymore.

He's almost back to his old self.

Damon has no idea what that means for Elena; but for now he feels that he has to leave Stefan his way.

Their eyes lock, and after a long shared look Damon just nods.

And then he turns around, and without a word he leaves.

He only hopes that he can keep the wordless promise he gave.

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><p>.<p>

He waits in her room when she comes back from the boarding house, sprawled on her only armchair, one leg casually dangling from an armrest.

Klaus.

The moment Caroline sees him, she's pissed. He has no right to invade her privacy. He has done that already way too much.

"Get out," she says fiercely.

"Why so grumpy?" he asks amused, and Caroline hates him. She glares at him, putting all her hatred for him in this one look. His face falls, and he's either a very good actor or he's genuinely upset about her reaction. She thinks that he has no right to be upset though. Damon told them what happened in Ayana's cavern, and he also mentioned the run-in with the hybrid; and the flash of fury crossing his features betrayed what he didn't put in words.

Caroline doesn't even dignify the hybrid with an answer. She turns away from him, shrugs out of her jacket and walks over to the closet to hang it up. She slips out of her shoes and is on her way toward the bathroom door when he speaks up again, his voice so soft that despite herself it makes her stop in her tracks.

"I couldn't track her down. I lost her scent in the woods." She doesn't look at him, just mutely stands there, attentively. From the corner of her eye she sees him shrugging his shoulders and a small sad smile appearing on his face. "She's a witch after all; she sure knows how to cover her tracks from a werewolf."

He's sort of apologizing. Caroline swallows; she can see that he hates to admit this defeat, his shortcoming, but he does it anyway. And what is even more, he lets her see how bad he feels about it.

For a moment Caroline is touched; but then she straightens; that doesn't change the facts that Klaus is what he is, a self-serving egomaniac without any redeeming, any human qualities.

(Except the side of him he had shown her recently.)

She focuses on everything he has done to them, attempting not to let herself be distracted. Again.

"Well, too bad. She could've been forced to save your blood bag, right?" she huffs, turning to him now to give him a killing glance, well knowing that it must be like a slap in his face after once again exposing his weak side to her.

She doesn't care. (She doesn't want to care.)

His face hardens slightly. "Yes, that and it could have saved our lives. It would have saved Elena's life too."

"Your life and the life of the one who delivers the main ingredient to create your hybrid friends. Don't pretend that you would've moved even a single finger if it hadn't come down to your very own interests." Caroline glares at him now. She feels her earlier anger bubbling up again; seeing him acting as the usual dick after the day they have spent together, after showing her that there _was_ a different side within him, has left her angrier at him than she was before. She has hated him before for everything he has done; but now disappointment adds to her hatred, because for a while, she has secretly hoped that maybe there was a tiny chance for redemption, even for him. And…she liked that man he has been the day before; and now she feels betrayed and abused.

"You can't know that; if it had been your life…"

Caroline interrupts him with a burst of laughter. "Oh, right, if it had been for the girl you _fancy_. Don't you get it? This is also your very own interest. You never do anything just because it's the right thing to do. Not if you don't benefit from it in one way or another."

"What if I severed the sire bond with Tyler?" he asks softly, his eyes rooted on her features, waiting for her reaction.

Caroline freezes. He has her there. It's what she wished for from the start. She stares at him, for a second there seriously contemplating what he suggested. Admittedly it's tempting; it would make things so much easier for Tyler _and_ for her.

She sighs. It's just not her.

She's not bribable.

She glowers at him. "If I agreed, you would still do it only for your benefit. You don't give a crap about Tyler; you would do it for getting my affection," she replies, her voice colored with anger. "You wouldn't think about it for a second if you knew that it's not a step on the way into my heart or to my friendship or whatever it is you want from me." She takes a deep breath; she knows she's walking on dangerous ground, and she really should stop now. Yet, she can't. She's been bottling up too many confusing feelings during the last days; some of them fight their way out now. "But how could you even know this? You have no idea what friendship even means. You once had one genuine friend, but you compelled him to forget everything about your friendship. And then you abandoned him, not caring the slightest about him anymore for 90 years. And why? Because he drew Mikael's attention, and you were too scared for your life to preserve your friendship. It became a liability to you, not worth the risk. That's kinda…pathetic. And you didn't care about your sister's feelings either, you even daggered her and put her in a box when she chose Stefan. What kind of friend, what kind of a brother are you?"

He stares at her, his eyes blazing with rising fury; his lips are a small, grim line, the muscle beneath his temple ticks. But he doesn't pounce at her; he's frozen in place.

He listens.

Caroline has talked herself into a rage; she sees his fury, but she doesn't care. For some reason she's not afraid of him anymore, and there are still things she has to get out. "You loathe humanity so much, because you think it makes weak. But the humans around here, Elena, Alaric, Matt even? They are not weak. They would risk everything for their friends, no matter what. Because they value friendship. They know that life is nothing without friends to share it with."

Again Caroline takes a deep breath. She sees his face changing; the fury slowly fades away, but he still doesn't move, still doesn't say a word. And she still isn't done yet; maybe she will never have the opportunity again to say things like that. (Maybe she'll never again dare to.)

"But you knew that already, didn't you? That's why you carted your family around with you. That's why you want to create more of your kind. You have no one to share your life with, but you're unable to win yourself friends, because you're too afraid to show any weakness. Whoever it was that hurt you that much, they left you as a God damned coward, and we all have to pay for it. And then you sit and wonder why everyone hates you."

She cuts herself off when she suddenly becomes aware that she probably eventually crossed the line.

He stands up and walks over to her until he stands right in front of her, too close for her comfort, but she doesn't flinch, raises her chin defiantly instead. Sadly her traitorous heart begins to pick up the pace again, and despite everything, it's not fear making it beat faster. He gazes at her, his eyes roaming over her face, briefly dripping down to her chest, and a smile curls his lips. He lifts his hand and winds a strand of her blond hair around his finger; and then he leans in, brings his mouth close to her ear, his lips brushing the hair covering it. "I already found a way into your heart, whether you like it or not," he murmurs, his voice once again like velvet, and despite her anger at him, a shiver runs down Caroline's spine. He pulls away to gently take her head between his hands, his eyes glinting; and then he pulls her head closer and softly presses his lips on her forehead. Caroline's eyes widen in surprise.

(She doesn't know if she is surprised about the kiss, about his words or about her fluttering stomach.)

And then he's gone in a flash.

And Caroline stands alone, numbly staring at the curtains blowing in the wind.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** Still no Delena...sorry. But don't worry, the next chapter will ease your pain :-)

I hope you liked it anyway...

Please, as always, don't forget to review! Your reviews make my days...:-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...

**A/N:** I'm so happy you're still with me ...

Thank you so much for your awesome reviews, they always brighten my days. I LOVE to read what you guys think about it!

A bazillion thanks to my amazing beta Kymberleii...:-)

Here it goes...

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 10  
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Esther carefully lifts her head, only to let it slowly sink back to the ground. It keeps spinning.

With a sigh she turns on her side, pauses for a while, then rolling on her stomach. She determinedly pushes herself onto her hands and knees; trying to ignore the dizzy feeling, she breathes in and out and glides herself into a sitting position. Her head spins like a whirlwind, and she seeks support in her hands to keep it steady and to keep the nausea instantly befalling her at bay. She focuses on slowly breathing in and out. In and out, until the sickness in her stomach ceases.

She looks down at her shoulder; the shirt is torn where the beast has bitten her. (Where her son has bitten her.) She tugs the neckline down to examine the wound, but there isn't one. It's completely healed due to the vampire's blood, and without looking at her ribcage, she knows there will be nothing to see as well. Then why is her head spinning like this?

She lets out a sigh. She simply doesn't know anything about the consequences of a werewolf biting a witch; she's never heard of such an incidence before. But since she's beginning to feel better, she presumes that there isn't any lasting damage to dread.

She leans her head against the wall behind her and closes her eyes in frustration. _Speaking of consequences_…she already has to deal with the vampire blood in her system. She shudders in disgust at the thought of the thick liquid gushing into her mouth, soaking every inch inside until she couldn't avoid swallowing it down any longer.

She hates them so much, those abominations of nature she has created.

She always has.

She would've preferred to just leave and build a life somewhere else back then, but Mikael was not willing to let go of his pride, and she also hated _him_ for pressing her to perform that fateful ritual.

She knew there'd be a price they had to pay. She hadn't imagined that there would be bloodlust; but she knew that something evil would be around them. She talked herself into believing that they would still be her children. Her beloved children. But deeply buried in her heart she had known they wouldn't.

Her children had been gone the moment Mikael had stabbed them, and they hadn't returned. The monsters that came instead had pretended to be them; but she always knew they were only beasts with a stolen shell to hide in.

However, most of all she hates her weakness, preventing her from undoing the evil when it had still been possible. When she could have killed them without having to harness the power of another witch's bloodline. When it would've sufficed to merge her power with Ayana's to wipe the earth clean of vampires, like Ayana had begged for. When they began to understand the extent of the curse she had brought over the world. But she was paralyzed by horror about the result of her deed until it was too late.

She sighs again. That opportunity was long gone; there was no point in mourning it. She has to focus on her task to atone for her mistake. Unfortunately she can't do anything right now; she can't go back to her cavern or anywhere for that matter. There's too much of a risk of getting herself killed now that they all know about her plan to annihilate them; and it isn't an option with vampire blood in her system. This body she borrowed would come back as a vampire; she wouldn't be able to do magic any longer. She would need the body of another witch, preferably her own, re-prepared for resurrection; but in order to invade it, she'd have to be near it in the moment of Bonnie's death. Sadly she lost it, and she knows that in her current state it would be insane to try and get it back.

So she has to hide in this small cave for a day, until the evil coursing through her veins has left her body, hoping they won't find her here like they found her cavern. She decides to at least use the time to her advantage to request for help.

She doesn't need candles: the power of her blood is strong enough, and the rising moon outside helps too. She positions herself in the center of the cave, closes her eyes and raises her hands, arms outstretched and palms upside. It's not necessary, but it helps her to focus on the power flowing in her body.

She conjures the image of the one she seeks help of and concentrates on it. Then she begins to chant.

She doesn't have to look for long; it's almost as if Ayana had already been waiting for her.

"You failed," she says instead of a greeting, and Esther feels a shiver running down her spine at the coldness in Ayana's voice. She's displeased, and her next words not only confirm Esther's suspicion, but also tell her the reason. "And you're abusing my ancestor. That isn't right."

Esther staggers slightly; she didn't expect her friend and ally to be angry at her for using Bonnie's body. "It was unavoidable. I couldn't have accomplished our mission if I was dead," she defends herself, straightening and raising her chin. She won't let Ayana lecture her. She hasn't done anything wrong. (Not this time.)

Ayana sighs exasperated. "We don't have time for this. You failed, but there's still another possibility to rid the earth of vampires."

Esther narrows her eyes. "I had the doppelganger captured, and I have some of her blood. I just have to…"

But Ayana cuts her short. "This was a vain effort. They know. They won't fall for this ruse again; apparently they didn't even at the first time, at least not all of them. You have to take the other path now."

"What are you talking about?" Esther studies her friend cautiously; as far as she knows, binding the Originals together has been the only possibility.

"You really don't know about it, do you?" Ayana raises her brows in surprise. "It never occurred to you back then? Think about it, Esther. What did you use to seal the curse that turned your children into vampires?"

Esther pales and stares on the ground with blank eyes. "Tatia's blood," she whispers, "they drank it to trigger the transition, but I also used it to seal the spell when I spilled it over the wood from the white oak tree…But it's not possible to unseal it with the doppelganger's blood. I made sure of that. It needs to be Tatia's blood…" Her head jerks up, and a cruel smile settles on her face; her eyes begin to glint with a hint of insanity. "Oh the irony…"

Ayana observes the change in Esther's attitude, and suddenly sadness flies over her face. "This shouldn't be an opportunity to be happy, Esther. We're talking about killing your children. The ones you sought to protect with this spell to begin with. They would've never become an abomination if you hadn't defied my advice," she says quietly.

Esther casts her a cold glance. "Those are not my children. My children were gone a thousand years ago. Those are deadly monsters, and they have to be erased from this earth as soon as possible. So, tell me where I'll find what I need."

Ayana nods slowly, but Esther is sure to see a slight trace of doubt flickering in her eyes. "I'll tell you. But you have to hurry. They are on it."

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Finally.

Damon glances at the border sign reading 'Welcome to South Carolina!' and sighs. He turns his head and peers at the sleeping girl lying beside him in the reclined passenger seat, listens to her heartbeat, observes her breathing for a while.

Not that he had ever stopped attending to it, not even for one single minute of this trip; but now he takes it in with a gradual feeling that he hasn't felt since he has heard about Elena's disappearance; confidence. He doesn't dare to rely on it, not yet; but despite his anxiety it sneaks its way to his heart, and he lets it.

He reaches out and gingerly strokes over her cheek with his fingertips, and much to his surprise he feels a slight smile tugging up the corners of his lips.

His thoughts flash back to the night when he first did this; when he had secretly watched her sleeping, peacefully despite the horrible things that had happened the days before (despite the things _he_ had done the days before), not yet knowing what cruelties fate had in store for her. He remembers his amazement when he realized his desire to learn more about her, and not only to distinguish her from Katherine. For the first time in decades or even since he had been turned he was genuinely interested in someone, he was intrigued by this girl that had so fearlessly stood against him. It hadn't been just the resemblance to Katherine that had him feeling drawn to her, but more the obvious differences to her doppelganger.

He snorts; he can't believe that he had ever mistaken Katherine for Elena. He's sure that the bitch couldn't fool him anymore; a brief glance into her eyes would suffice. There's something in Elena's eyes that Katherine could never feign; not even the Katherine of today, who sometimes decides to let humanity back in. He can't name it, but it's there, no matter what mood she is in, whether she's laughing or yelling, whether she's sad or scared. It's what defines her, what makes her Elena. He would always recognize her.

(Not to mention that he could pick out her heartbeat even in a crowded room.)

He realizes that a well known feeling settles in, spreading through his body, grounding him. The feeling he always has when he watches her asleep. He still does that sometimes, sneaking into her room when she sleeps. He knows that she wouldn't like it, but he refuses to feel guilty about it; from time to time he simply needs it. Those are the rare moments when he doesn't feel rejected or restrained by guilt or by being scared of getting hurt; when he allows himself to dream. To hope against all hope. He doesn't feel the need to fight then, he feels at peace for a little while. It's why he needs those stolen moments; it's the closest he gets to happiness.

He never touches her, apart from occasionally stroking her cheek or her hand, carefully, only with his fingertips; much like the first time. This time though, the need to take her in his arms is getting stronger. He was too scared for her all those hours, and he knows too well that she can't wake up accidentally, so she would never know. It's tempting; however, he doesn't give in; he can't shake the feeling of taking advantage of her. But he makes a small concession; he gently takes her hand and holds it securely in his. "It won't be long now, Elena," he says quietly and squeezes her hand. His stomach turns once more into a stone at feeling no response whatsoever, and more for his own than for her wellbeing he repeats firmly, "It won't be long now. You'll be back soon."

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Dawn is already lurking and the sun is waiting to show her bright face when he finally reaches their destination. He pulls his car over and inhales deeply; all his hopes are directed at the woman who awaits them inside the house. He hates to be dependant on a witch with this, but he has no choice. He turns toward the sleeping form beside him and places the hand that he is still holding on her belly.

"I'll come and get you as soon as I've talked to the witch." He knows that it's kind of ridiculous that he's talking to her; she's sleeping and can't hear anything; he does it anyway. (He thinks that maybe, deep down, she can feel it.) He hesitates briefly, but then he bends down and gives her a light kiss on her cheek; it helps against the fear for her that threatens to overwhelm him again, now that he is so close to find out whether or not that damn witch can help her. "I'll be right back," he whispers, and then he finally gets out.

He walks over to the house, climbs up the few steps and takes another deep breath that is supposed to help him brace himself to face the truth; it doesn't. _You care too damn much_… Stefan's voice still resonates in his mind, and he curses himself for being such a pussy; annoyed he shakes his head and determinedly lifts his hand to knock at the door.

It doesn't take long until it's flung open. Behind the threshold stands a small, thin man in his seventies with fine hair in different shades of grey and a glum expression on his face. He leans at the doorframe and examines Damon grumpily, his eyes scanning him from head to toe. Damon instantly feels anger building inside; he hates to be studied like he's a piece of flesh on the market. But he assumes that this man is the witch's husband or father, and he needs her to be willing to help him; so he fights back the urge to beat this guy's staring eyes to mush, plasters his usual smirk on his face and extends his hand in greeting.

"Mornin'…" he starts, but he's cut short before the word is out.

"You're the vampire," the man states without bothering to take the outstretched hand; Damon lets it fall again. Okay; no politeness then.

"Yes," he answers, "Damon Salvatore." He waits for a moment, but the man just keeps staring. "Um, I'm guessing your wife is waiting for me…?" He waits again, raising his brows when still nothing happens. He's about to consider different options how to get the witch at the door when the man decides to speak up for the second time.

"I'm not married."

"Surprise…" Damon mutters under his breath, but of course the guy hears it.

He shoots him a sharp look and again he says nothing for a long while. Damon feels impatience growing inside, along with the rising fear of not getting help here. And it's only the thought of the dying girl in his car that keeps his mouth shut. But he can't control his eyes, and they express what his mouth may not; impatience, fear, helplessness and anger toward that annoying guy who dares to challenge him when he so urgently needs help for Elena mingle into one feeling – fury. He clenches his jaws and he feels his hands curling to fists, but he successfully keeps them in check, resisting the need to slam them against anything; he takes a deep breath, and then he lets out just one word through gritted teeth.

"Please."

The small figure in front of him furrows his brows, his scrutinizing eyes become a fraction softer, and then he says, "Where's the girl? You would want to bring her here; I can't help her if she stays in the car."

For a second, Damon is taken aback when he realizes that the witch turns out to be a warlock. He remembers now that Abby never said that it was a witch she sent him to. But then he snaps back to reality, and when it eventually registers what the warlock just said, he is at his car in a flash. Carefully he scoops Elena up in his arms, relieved to hear her heartbeat again.

She's so at ease while she sleeps; but the strained breathing is becoming shallower. The herbs are losing their effect. It's about time.

He feels sorry for disturbing her, for dragging her out of her peace into the cold of reality; but he promised. He lifts his gaze to the warlock waiting at the door, watching them with a piercing glance; and all of a sudden Damon's distrust toward him is blown away. When the lifeless girl came into his view, the warlock's demeanor changed slightly. Pure power begins now radiating from him, sensible even over the distance, although he hasn't moved an inch. He nods once, nearly imperceptibly, and Damon nods back, feeling confidence softening the stone in his belly.

He gently presses her motionless body against his chest for a brief moment, then he bows his head down to hers. "You can wake up now, Elena. We just arrived." He pauses, listens to her changing heartbeat, and he can feel the moment the fear leaps at her again. "Shhh," he soothes, "you're okay. You survived the trip." He walks back to the house while he still talks to her, and he hears her slowly calming down. "Abby's witch turned out to be a warlock. He doesn't win an award for niceness, but we don't want him to make you a lady, do we? Niceness is overrated anyway."

Standing in front of the threshold again, he looks down to the warlock, and he's sure to detect a tiny grin tugging up the corners of the man's lips for a split second, dancing in his eyes for a blink before he steps aside.

"Get in," he grunts, but when their eyes meet, Damon bewilderedly notes that he somehow begins to like the grumpy old man.

The warlock closes the door behind them, turns and his eyes rooted on Elena he says, "I'm Carl."

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He leads them to his living room and shows Damon the couch where he can lay down Elena and then offers him a coffee. Damon rejects; he didn't come here to have a chat over a nice cup of coffee. His ever present worry increases as he realizes that they are eventually running out of time. Elena's heart is becoming weaker, and he can't imagine that she is even getting the tiniest bit of oxygen into her lungs, as shallow as her breathing is now. He kneels down beside her, cups her face with both hands, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Then he grabs her hand with both of his, holds it tightly like the day before at the boarding house. He turns his head toward Carl, and his pleading eyes urge the warlock to act.

Carl scrutinizes him, scanning his face, his eyes darting to the vampire's hands and back to his face, and a knowing look appears on his face. He kneels beside Damon, gently shoving him a bit aside, but signaling with his eyes that the he's allowed to stay and to keep hold on the girl's hand. The warlock reaches into a bowl that is on the coffee table behind him and seizes a handful of herbs, rubbing them over the bowl between his palms and turns back to Elena. He takes her free hand in one of his, cups her cheek with his other and closes his eyes.

After half a minute, he lets go of Elena, his eyes snap open and he pensively looks at her face.

"Who did you say cast the spell?"

Damon knits his brows fractionally, and he feels fear creeping its way back into his heart. "Esther Mikaelson," he says hoarsely; he startles when Carl's head jerks around to stare at the vampire.

"The Original Witch? She's been dead for a thousand years…"

Damon's frown deepens. "She was. She's been resurrected."

Carl gapes at him for a long time, and then he turns his attention to Elena again. "She's the doppelganger, isn't she?" he asks quietly. Damon's eyes widen before they narrow to slits.

"You sure know a whole lot of that stuff," he replies cautiously. He tilts his head lightly. "How come I get the feeling that we have a problem here?" He hears Elena's heart pouncing in her chest, and his own heart drops into his gut at the warlock's apologetic glance.

"If this is Esther's spell – I can't lift it."

"_What_?" It's kind of a reflex; Damon jumps up to his feet, tearing Carl with him, his hands on his collar. But the rage blazing in his eyes is only a mask. What he really feels is full-blown panic. He knows that if this man can't help Elena, she's going to die. They won't have time for another shot.

Carl stays surprisingly calm. He grabs both of Damon's wrists, and again Damon can feel the power emanating off of this small old man. "Let go of me. I don't want to hurt you. And you know I can." His voice is low, matter-of-factly. Damon loosens his grip on him, slowly; and without warning the panic inside turns into utter despair.

Only twice in his long life he had felt akin to what he feels now, and both times it had been about Katherine; but never about Elena. Countless times he was scared to death to lose her, but he always could've kept fighting. But right now he doesn't know how to fight anymore. There's nothing he can do. All his hopes to save the girl lay on the old man in front of him, and he just told him there's nothing he could do either. Damon stares at him, his eyes void of fury now, blank. Slowly he turns his head to the girl lying on the couch, motionless, looking so frail. His mind tries to process what is happening, but it's pointless. How could he even begin to understand that Elena is _dying_? He sinks down on his knees again, his eyes locked on her face, and he slowly lifts a hand to reach out to her, touching her shoulder, lightly, feathery. His hand glides down to her neck, slipping behind, resting on its back. It would be so easy. He could end her suffering with one brief twist of his hands. He thinks of Rose; he did it back then, too. But he hears Elena's heart beating, frantically, as if she knows what he's contemplating; and he knows he can't. He isn't sure if he fails her; all he knows is that he can't do that. He lifts his other hand and wipes away the tears on her face, not aware that some of them are falling from his cheeks. His arms both slip behind her back, wrapping around her securely. He cradles her in his arms, slowly rocking her back and forth. He wants to say something, anything, to comfort her, to comfort _them_, but he can't. Not a single helpful word is coming to his mind, and he couldn't have spoken past the knot in his throat anyway.

It takes a while until he becomes aware of the voice saying his name, of the hand placed on his shoulder.

Until it registers what the warlock says.

"I didn't say I can't help her."

Damon goes completely still. He even stops breathing, only his heart continues thudding against his chest. After a while he gasps, his eyes fly open and he breathes out with a soft moan. He turns his head, ever so slowly, looking up to the old warlock, trying to decide whether to rip his heart out or to kiss him.

"What?" For the second time within minutes it's the only word he gets out, only a whisper this time.

"I can't lift the spell, but I can help her to override it; for some days, at least. That will give you time to meet an old friend of mine who might know of a solution. I'll go fetch the herbs I need." He hurries out of the room, leaving Damon alone with the girl still cradled in his arms.

He can't let go of her, can't lay her back. Not yet. He feels more tears pooling in his eyes, but he fights them back, swallows the knot in his throat down. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay," he whispers, and he doesn't know who he tries to reassure more, Elena or himself.

He sighs in relief when Carl reappears, an apothecary jar in each hand. "Lay her back," the warlock orders, and Damon reluctantly obeys; but immediately he grabs Elena's hand again. He won't leave her alone until she's recovered.

(He doesn't know if she needs this, but he knows he does.)

Like before Carl kneels down beside him; he pours one of the jars' herbs into a bowl, and like before he rubs them between his palms. Again he takes Elena's hand in one of his, cups her cheeks with the other hand. But this time he turns to Damon then, his face looking more serious than the vampire wishes to see.

"She's important to you." It's a statement, not a question.

Damon closes his eyes for a second; then he swallows and nods. "Yes."

Carl also nods. "Then don't be afraid if it doesn't work." Damon tenses, his eyes go a fraction wider, but he doesn't say a word. He waits.

"I'm sure that these herbs are the right ones; they just might be not strong enough to override a spell of the Original Witch. In case they aren't, I'll add those herbs." He points to the other jar. "Those have the wonderful ability to amplify the magic power of other herbs; their disadvantage is that they amplify the still lingering magic power of all other herbs that have been used on her lately."

Damon tilts his head a little and casts the warlock an insecure glance. "You mean, if for example someone has been rendered unconscious with herbs, those …will do it again?" he asks hesitantly.

"Not necessarily, but they might. They might for as long as this certain someone wears them on his body, but they might also render the person just briefly unconscious, but several times. It depends on the circumstances; the person in question, the used herbs, and the witch who has used them."

Damon shifts in unease. "What about…someone who was part of a spell, but didn't use the herbs themselves?"

"This applies on any spell cast with the help of herbs that involved her." Carl eyes the vampire thoroughly. "Is there something we should talk about?"

"Would it be…dangerous for her?" Damon counters.

"Only if the spell was."

Damon gazes at Elena. "And the other person? The one who actually used the herbs?" he asks quietly, his eyes glued on her face.

The warlock shakes his head. "Only her."

After a few more seconds, Damon draws in a deep breath, straightens and turns to Carl. "Nothing to talk about. Please, go ahead; she has suffered long enough now."

The warlock gives him a piercing look, but then he nods, turns to Elena and begins to chant.

Only moments later Damon feels power flowing through their linked hands; the chanting becomes louder, more urgent, and he tightens his grip, his eyes never leaving Elena's face, his ears focusing on her breathing.

Yet, it doesn't take very long until the chanting ceases and eventually stops; but the breathing hasn't changed. Damon lets out a sigh; he had really hoped that the warlock wouldn't need those amplifying herbs. Yeah, no such luck. He watches as Carl, after giving him a reassuring nod, takes the second jar, pours some of the herbs on his palm and puts the jar aside. He grabs Elena's hand again and places it over his outstretched hand; with their hands linked, the herbs buried between their palms, he chants again.

Like before, Damon feels the warlock's power flowing, but for a long time nothing happens. His fear increases; he knows it's her last chance. The longer it takes, the more nervous he gets. His heart clenches at the sight of the girl that is still so close to death. He begins to beg inwardly, but it doesn't seem to help. The chanting gets a note of urgency again, and his eyes flicker to the warlock, but Carl's face doesn't give away anything. So Damon focuses on Elena again; his eyes latched onto her face, he realizes that his grip has become too fierce, and he loosens it a little; but it doesn't take long until he clutches her hand like before, as if he could will her to breathe by squeezing her hand.

And then, all of a sudden, Elena gasps.

It's a small gasp. It's certainly not giving her lungs enough of the so urgently needed oxygen.

But it's so much more than they have gotten during the last hours.

Damon leans closer to her, still pressing her hand against his chest, slipping his other hand under her shoulder. He doesn't even notice that the chanting has stopped and the warlock has disappeared. He listens to her heart that is erratically beating in her chest, and he desperately waits for the next breath.

It fails to come.

Instead Elena's eyes fly open, wide open. She turns her head, slowly, until her eyes meet those of the vampire who is hovering over her, observing every inch of her face with eyes so terrified, and yet so full of hope and love. Her lips part slightly, but she still doesn't breathe. He sees tears springing to her eyes, and he begins to consider shaking her, just to get her to breathe.

And then, with the little air she gasped in, she says just one word.

It's barely understandable, her lips and tongue haven't been moved for too long; and it's audible only for vampire's ears. But Damon hears it; and he understands.

"Sorry."

And as if this word had been the obstacle to overcome, she finally breathes in; long, deeply, shuddery but releasing. Relief washes over Damon like a tidal wave; he lets go of her hand and cups her face instead. He knows what she apologized for, and he knows that they will have to talk about it. Later. Right now it doesn't matter what happened before.

Nothing matters; she is breathing.

He wraps both arms around her, and like earlier he holds her, only this time she slips her arms around his neck, too. He buries his face into her hair and just listens to the sweet sound of her breathing that is slowly getting steadier.

"I thought I'd really lose you this time…" he says quietly, his voice cracking.

"I'm still here," she whispers back.

He pulls back to look at her, his eyes roaming over her face, locking with hers then. "Yeah. You're still here." He swallows. "I'm glad."

She just smiles.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** So, here it was, the promised Delena...I hope you liked it!

Now that she's not paralyzed, there will be more of it in the next chapters...:-)

What did you think? Tell me...review, please...

(wsm021 - you know at which part I thought of you, right? :-) )


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...and Alaric wouldn't have died!

**A/N: **You guys, I'm so, so sorry. I never would've thought that this could happen to me, that I could let you wait for 5 freaking weeks! It was just not possible for me to write faster, since real life got in the way. Like, really in the way. Too much stuff happened. My apologies. I hope that this will never happen again.

At least I didn't leave you with a cliffhanger...

I thank you so much for your awesome reviews; it was what made me going on, even though I still don't have enough time...So, keep them coming, pretty please...

Oh, and this one is way too long, it's kind of a monster. Sorry for that, too...I didn't want to cut off the last part...:-)  
>The next one will have normal lenght again.<p>

Here it goes, enjoy!

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**Chapter 11**

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><p>.<strong><br>**

It amazes Kol how Gale leads them through the woods, even though she had never before been to Mystic Falls. It's as if she could smell the way they have to go. She tried to explain to them how it worked, but when Kol heard something about some weird mystical energy, he stopped listening. He had long since given up trying to understand the witchy stuff and, truth be told, he's not particularly interested; as long as it takes him to his goal, he's willing to just accept it as it is.

He follows her along a narrow path through the brush, and right now he doesn't care where it leads them. His eyes as well as his mind are fastened onto the woman in front of him, rejoicing in what he sees; her long dark hair swinging with every step she takes, her swaying hips, the way the skin of her legs glides over her muscles with every move she makes. She briefly turns her head back to glance at him, and he sees her eyes brightening at his sight; and it's then that he knows he can't postpone it any longer. He feels as if he waited too long already. An angry grunt escapes his throat; a century too long, thanks to his brother. He purses his lips; suddenly he's afraid that if he waits another single second, it's going to be the final straw.

He can't risk it.

Yet, she's faster.

"You never came." It's a quiet statement, bare of any accusation. She doesn't turn around this time, maybe not willing to let him see her face. Maybe it's an attempt to make it sound casual; only a twinge of sadness filtering through in her voice betraying her not being as detached as she might like to appear.

Kol is taken aback.

He knows instantly what she's talking about; as far as he's concerned, only a few days have gone by since that night when he had promised her he would return. Since the night Niklaus had daggered him, brutally preventing him from keeping his promise.

But for her, almost a century had passed by. And still, she not only remembers, she's even sad.

And yet, was makes him shrink back is the realization that she doesn't seem to know _why_ he didn't come back to her. This thought never even occurred to him; but she obviously didn't know that he was sort of dead all that time, just as he didn't know that she wasn't.

He feels that he's already waited too long to find an answer; the tension in her body her begins to fade away, dissipating into disappointment.

"You didn't know," he bursts out with his somewhat lame answer before it's too late, just to keep her at it. He's rewarded with a light movement of her head toward him, not exactly turning, but allowing her to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye. Something flits across her face, curiosity and a shade of hope.

"Didn't know what, Kol?" Her tone gets a note of challenge now; she's not inclined to give him an out again. No excuses.

Not anymore. She did that a hundred years ago, and it left her splintered for almost a century.

She finally wants to be whole again.

He can see it. This is the defining moment.

In a flash he's at her side, grabbing her upper arm, not too roughly, but not really gently either. It's too important to him, and gentle isn't usually his cup of tea anyway.

"I died." Only a hint of urgency in his voice gives away the impact this conversation has on him.

He's relieved when he hears her heart skipping a beat as a direct reaction to his revelation.

"What?"

Finally she turns her head toward him, meeting his gaze with eyes wide in surprise, and he thinks that he detects a note of fright as well. His hand glides down along her arm until it reaches her hand, until skin meets skin, causing a rush of heat to course through his body. Cautiously entwining his fingers with hers, he explains, "Niklaus caught me that night. He accused me of…being in love with you." His voice hitches; this is not an easy subject to him, despite living on this earth for a millennium. He never wanted this, never missed this. He had way too much fun in torturing, inflicting pain and causing terror, indulging in the fear evident in eyes and blood in equal measures.

Until he met her, that is.

Until she turned his world upside down by showing him that there were other things to find worth living for. Her.

"I couldn't deny it, and," his eyes soften as his mind flashes back to that moment," I didn't want to deny it. I told him that I wanted to be with you." Kol straightens, anger briefly flaring in his eyes. "I guess he's not one to share. He caught me off guard; he plunged a dagger into my heart and put me in a coffin, as he had done with Finn, too. I was told that he carted us around the world with him for the next century. I woke up again just a few days ago, and when I heard what year it is, I assumed you were dead." He swallows hard as he relives the grief of those days since he was de-daggered. And all of a sudden, the realization that she's not dead, that she's right here, her fingers tangled with his, hits him like a freight train. He stops in his tracks, causing her to halt, too. He lifts his hand to her shoulder, turning her around, his eyes locking with hers.

"I was on my way to you that night. I got held up, but now I'm here. And I'm not going to leave unless you want me to."

She stares at him, still not entirely ready to believe what had happened the day before. That the man she waited for 90 years for suddenly showed up on her porch. But then a smile appears, sneaking in her eyes at first, then cracking the mask of disbelief, brightening her face.

"I know," she says, "I always knew. That's why I'm still here."

And then she can't say anything else.

His lips on hers take care of that.

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Elijah gives them a few more moments until he gets too impatient and gently interrupts them. He knows they need that, and they deserve it. But it has to suffice for now; there are other issues at hand, more pressing issues.

He urges Gale to move on, to find what they are looking for, and she obliges, as much interested in keeping vampires on the earth as they are.

They go on strolling deeper into the woods, one after the other. After a few minutes though, Gale slows down a little, her steps become hesitant.

The same moment Elijah recognizes a scent he would've gladly missed, and seeing Kol slightly cocking his head, he can tell that his brother perceives it too.

"We're too late," the eldest states; it's not a question, he just knows it. She was here, and there's no way that she left without finding what they all were looking for. He meets Gales gaze and what he sees there confirms his apprehension. He nods.

"Show me the place nonetheless, would you?" Elijah tries hard not to let the disappointment roll over him. A thousand year old longing, and it's just now that he realizes that it hadn't gotten any colder over the centuries. _Family above all_…yes, in general Elijah agreed to Klaus' statement, but in case of Tatia he wasn't so sure anymore…

Gale leads them a few hundred yards further to what looks like an exploded pile of rocks, leaving them scattered all over the small clearing they are standing on. Amidst the stones they find the remnants of a wooden box big enough to hold a body. Elijah kneels down beside it and slowly lifts his hand. He lets it hover a few seconds over the roughly carved boards, as if trying to connect to the woman who laid in here for a millennium. A thousand years without knowing it; and then he got here only moments too late.

With a frustrated sigh Elijah lets his hand sink down again without touching the wood.

He's too late.

But it might not be over yet. He raises his head and meets Kol's eyes, and bewilderedly he notes compassion in his youngest brother's gaze. Elijah chuckles. In the end, it all comes down to the love of a woman, doesn't it? Gale even managed to elicit empathy in Kol…

Elijah inhales deeply and straightens.

"I presume Mother couldn't accomplish her plan immediately as we are still alive. What do you need to find out more about it, Gale?"

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Stefan shoves his phone back into his pocket and shares a glance with Caroline.

"So, she's okay now, but the spell is just temporary overridden?" She furrows her brows. The relief she felt when Damon told his brother what happened vanished as quickly as it had appeared when he revealed the rest of it.

Stefan shrugs. "Apparently." He looks completely unfazed, and Caroline rolls her eyes.

"Oh come on, Stefan; quit pretending to be switched off; it's kinda getting old, and no one believes you any longer anyways."

Stefan looks at her, and his mask of indifference begins to crack, reluctantly, almost shyly getting replaced by a familiar but long not seen smile gracing his face. "That's Caroline for you; never beating around the bush…" Their gazes meet, and the blonde grins at him before both their faces become serious again.

"Isn't there anything we could do about that spell?" she asks quietly; like all of them, she has lost so much already, and now the lives of both her best friends are dangling on a string. And she sits here, damned to do – nothing.

(She thinks she has never felt so useless before.)

"You heard what Damon said. They'll go to find that other witch, who hopefully can help to find a solution." Stefan stares at his hands, briefly wondering what Elena thought about him bailing when she came to. He sighs. He's well aware about the looming consequences of him staying behind, and the day before he was pretty sure he was doing the right thing. But now…now he just feels like he has closed the doors and thrown away the key. (He doesn't know if he'd find it again if one day he needed to.)

He breathes in deeply and lifts his gaze, only to find Caroline looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for an answer. "What?"

"That's why I asked whether _we_ could do anything." She repeats, her fingers fiddling impatiently with her cell, as if waiting for a suggestion of who to call and then get their asses in motion.

Stefan feels as restless as she obviously does, but he forces himself to lean back, folding his hands behind his head, and to close his eyes in an attempt to ignore the urge to act. "Relax, Caroline, Damon and Elena are on it. We're supposed to keep watch over Abby and the corpse in the basement, and that's just what we do." He succeeds in appearing relaxed, sounding even bored. (He had enough practice in pretending not to feel lately.)

Caroline gets even more fidgety as she watches him; she shakes her head incredulously and wonders how the hell he can be so calm, and suddenly she jumps to her feet and rushes toward the door leading to the basement. She needs distraction. "I'm going to fetch a breakfast bag, you want one too?"

His eyes pop open and he gives her a brief glance, averting his eyes the second their gazes meet. "No, I…I'm not hungry."

The blonde raises her brows for a moment, then she shrugs her shoulders and blurs downstairs. She's back in an instant, grabs a tumbler from the liquor table and pours the blood in. When she turns back, her eyes fall on Stefan, and the glimpse of the furtively longing look she catches is all the confirmation to her assumption she needed. She settles on the couch where she spent the night to support Stefan in observing a still sleeping Abby as well as Esther's corpse in the basement. She snuggles into her blanket again, and hungrily she gulps the blood down. Relishing the taste of both sweetness and strength, she wonders not for the first time how one voluntarily could abstain from this.

"Why did you go back to bunnies?" she asks curiously. As his head jerks up and his narrowed eyes latch onto her, she becomes aware that she blurted out with this question without thinking, and she blushes in embarrassment. "Um…speaking of beating around the bush…," she mutters.

Stefan's strained expression smoothes into a faint smile. "It seems I can quit pretending in general with you, as apparently you see right through me," he chuckles softly.

"Well, that's what friends are for, right? Cracking masks, no pretense necessary, stuff like that…" Caroline returns the smile; only hers is shining brightly, lightening her whole face; it's infectious and tugs Stefan's lips further up, too. "So, are you gonna tell me why you did it or not?"

"As I presume that you won't take 'no' for an answer…" He leans his head on the back of his armchair, staring at the ceiling. "It was after Wickery Bridge…" He cuts himself off as he sees from the corner of his eye Caroline nodding knowingly. Canting his head to the side he meets her sympathetic gaze. "What?"

She squirms deeper into the cushions and takes another sip of her tumbler. "You did it to win Elena back," she states, but Stefan shakes his head and then turns it back, seemingly very interested in the ceiling again.

"Actually it's not about winning Elena back. This…incident on Wickery Bridge was the catalyst for my decision, so you could say Elena was; but I'm doing it for me. Because I could've killed her that night, and even if I didn't, I hurt her immensely. I don't want to be that person, I've never wanted that. For some reason, the human blood makes it too easy to lose myself, to let go of the things I value most. So, as far as I see it, there are two ways I could go. I can either learn to drink human blood while staying in control, keeping a hold on the man I want to be, or just forfeit it. I guess I just chose the easier way." He pauses and sits upright, his gaze drops to the floor, blank. "I'm afraid it's also the way doomed to fail and blow up in my face one day," he adds quietly, a hint of desperation seeping into his voice. He tears his gaze up to Caroline and gives her a wry grin, shrugging one shoulder, signaling humility with a hint of resignation. He rises to his feet and walks over to the liquor table, grabs a tumbler and pours four fingers of bourbon into it. He takes a sip, knocks back the half of it in an afterthought.

Caroline watches him silently. She considers his words, particularly the last ones. She ponders all those incidents involving Stefan and his bloodlust, and also those involving his refusal to let it take hold on him. And suddenly she knows with absolute clarity that his words are simply the truth. It's such a hard struggle that he's fighting each day of his life when he is on this diet, and it won't ever get any easier. And one day, he will lose it again, like he did several times before.

"Why did you choose this path anyway if you already knew it's the wrong one?" she asks empathetically.

He throws her a brief glance, then downs the rest of his bourbon and instantly refills his tumbler. Swaying the amber liquid, watching the tiny wave swirling in a circle inside the glass, he thoroughly contemplates his answer before speaking, solely the slight crack in his voice giving away how he truly feels about his decision. "Because it's the only path I can walk on my own, and because it's the only one with an almost immediate success." He lifts his gaze to meet hers again. "And I needed this success as fast as possible."

Caroline sucks in a deep breath in understanding. "So it _is_ about Elena after all," she states. Stefan lets out a soft sigh. "I never said it wasn't. I love her, Caroline. Do I _want_ to be with her again? Of course I do. But I'm certain that this ship has sailed, and the storm of Wickery Bridge just blew it the last yards out of the harbor that it was leaving anyway. And more than ever I'm convinced it's for the best. …I'm not giving up just yet, but…" He trails off, and Caroline feels a wave of sympathy rolling over her. Not just because of the pain in his eyes, almost as tangible as tears. It's the truth behind his words, all his words, the spoken and the unspoken, which no one wants to acknowledge. The sudden need for comforting her friend sets her in motion rather than just throwing him some nice words like bones to gnaw on. All the more as she can't find any words that could be able to compete with his. (She thinks that nothing can diminish his truth.) She slips out from underneath the blanket, rises from the couch and walks over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. But then, she can't help it, against better judgment those hollow words slip out of her mouth.

"You can't know that it's really too late if you don't…"

He looks at her and she's silenced mid-sentence, and the flicker in her eyes tells him that she's not entirely convinced of her own words; not anymore. He gives her a sad smile. "Nice try…" He takes a gulp of his bourbon before he clarifies, turning the conversation back to its beginning, "It's not about winning her back. But after everything I've done to her lately I owe it to her to find my true self again, the one she fought so hard to tear back from the edge. She never gave up on me; how could I even think of giving up then?"

Caroline nods; she thinks about the last months since Stefan left with Klaus, the hell Elena went through to bring him back, and she agrees; he owes her that. "I understand why you chose this way. But if you ever decide to go down the other path and need some help, I'm here; I'd be happy to help you. It would be fitting, don't you think? Full circle and stuff…" She glances at him and is happy to see his eyes glinting in genuine joy before he gets his serious vampire look again.

"Thanks, Caroline. But you wouldn't be strong enough if anything happened." The threat of him losing control and accidentally killing someone hangs heavy in the air, and she knows he's right; Stefan on human blood is much stronger than she is. "But if I decide to do it one day, I guess I know of someone who'll be willing to help me. Someone who wanted me on human blood all along…"

She sees his eyes wander over to the liquor table and nods again. She's a little surprised about how sure she is that Damon will gladly help his little brother. When did she even come to think so good of him? Sure, a part of it is what she saw the day before, but she's honest enough to see that this is not the only reason as those thoughts inevitably lead to a certain hybrid. Her view on what is black and white on this earth has shifted over the last days.

All that was necessary to achieve this was for Klaus to show her the remnants of his humanity, tiny as they might be. Unlike Damon, he hasn't even done anything _good_, saved anyone's life or at least _spared_ one. Except Elena's of course, his creating-friends-source. He has killed her classmates and his father; turned her boyfriend, daggered his own sister, again; he has threatened his way through Mystic Falls and had Tyler bite her only to prove a point. And yet…ever since he healed her then and gave her that speech…She knows if it hadn't been _him_, she would've instantly fallen for him. The words seemed so honest, so heartfelt, and they were _so_ getting under her skin…In a way she's grateful that it was Klaus, because she loves, really loves Tyler, and she is aware that her hatred for the hybrid has prevented the worst.

And still…

She snorts disdainfully when she realizes that all her musings about Klaus always end up with these words. And still…

He _is_ vulnerable. Unkillable maybe, but still capable of getting hurt. And he is sensitive when it comes down to the people he cares about, and those do exist. Currently she is one of them; she knows that, even though she has no clue what has attracted his attention.

What she just doesn't understand is how anyone, even one who's been walking on this earth for a gazillion years or so, can consist of two completely different people unified in one. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, at the same time, joyfully replacing one part by the other whenever it serves the purpose. Never quite separated, equally cheerfully tormenting and killing as charming a girl he fancies. If she puts it that way, it sounds psychotic, like borderline insane or even across that line. But Caroline knows that he may be a lot of things, but he is not insane. His joy in killing is due to the freaking vampirism, she knows this feeling herself. The difference is just that she didn't give in after the first lapse. Something prevented her from doing so, something he obviously missed.

Caroline inhales deeply, because deep down she knows what it was that was helping her through the hard times. It's empathy, deeply rooted and supported by a strong bond of love surrounding her. Family. Not just the one she's born in, but also and foremost the chosen one.

She thinks of Klaus' family and shudders. His father – hell bent on killing his children and obviously not a father of the caring kind, according to what he told her. His mother – turning her back on him because of _her_ mistake and now also hell bent on killing her spawn. The one brother – willing to sacrifice his own life to murder his siblings. Even Rebekah and Elijah had once tried to achieve his death. A loving, supporting family? Not so much.

Of course this is not necessarily the reason for his lack of empathy; maybe it's more its outcome, provoked by his egomaniac, ruthless behavior.

And still…

She sighs; that's the other side of the picture; her empathy brings her to feel even for the enemy. Once she saw his vulnerability, she can't entirely hate him anymore. Inevitably her thoughts turn to the question of who it could have been hurting him that much that he became the monster he mostly chooses to be, adding an amount of joy in hurting the world back, a shade of revenge, to his already damaged personality. Maybe if she knew…

Her head snaps up when she suddenly becomes aware of Stefan's eyes scrutinizing her. Stefan. He might know something; he was good friends with him for a while after all.

"Do you know anything about who hurt him in the past?" she blurts out without thinking for the second time that morning.

"What?" Stefan bewilderedly arches his eyebrows at her. "I thought that was common knowledge. Katherine…" He trails off, frowning. Something isn't right; according to Caroline's facial expression, mirroring his own from a few seconds ago, he obviously lost track here. "Who the hell are you talking about, Caroline?"

She stares at him wide eyed. Katherine…A girl. A human girl. Was it possible that a lost love played a role in this? Could it be that simple? "Klaus. I'm talking about Klaus. Do you know…has he ever been…in love? You know, the real, true, epic one?"

Stefan is taken aback. He wonders how she's gone from his bunny diet to someone hurting _Klaus_. "Seriously, Caroline? You're asking me about Klaus' love life? Why do you even care?"

She flushes in embarrassment. "I don't know…I guess I just try to understand…"

Stefan's face turns into a stony mask. "Don't do this, Caroline. There _is_ nothing to understand. Don't let yourself be seduced by his charm. There's nothing good in him, trust me." She can hear the anger in his voice, the hatred. She understands that, she feels the same after all, and Klaus is responsible for everything Stefan is currently struggling with, for everything he lost lately.

And still…

"You know, a year ago you said the same thing about your brother…"

Stefan recoils from her as if she's emanating vervain. He stares at her, his eyes are burning into hers, and for a moment she feels his hatred directed at her. "Don't compare him to Damon," he hisses. He clenches his teeth and takes a deep breath, fighting for composure. He stalks over to the fireplace and stares into the crackling flames. The comparison of Klaus and Damon, of the one who had made him give up everything to save the other, has thrown him off the track for a moment. He can't afford to think, not even for a second, that it's even possible to analyze them with the same measure; that would put them on the same metaphorical level, and that thought is unbearable for Stefan.

He doesn't turn around when he speaks again, a slight edge in his voice betraying his dismay. "There's a huge difference between them. For one my brother's not a heartless monster. He feels, he loves and he hurts, and he's putting on an act to hide it. Klaus," he spits out the name, "doesn't hide anything. There _is_ nothing to hide. His cruelty is not an act, it's real."

Caroline feels her throat constricting at Stefan's reaction; she didn't want to hurt him, and she can see that she did it anyway. She feels sorry, but she feels that she has to know more about the hybrid to finally silence the debating voices in her mind. (They are too loud to ignore.) She steps a little closer, following him, closing the distance again. "I know that. But I also saw a different side of him, a feeling side, and it wasn't an act either."

Stefan stands perfectly still with his back turned to her, and Caroline wisely keeps her mouth shut now. After a long while he sighs. "Elijah told us that he and Klaus had been in love with the same girl before turning. A girl named Tatia." He pauses. "Elena and Katherine's ancestor."

Caroline gasps. "The one the doppelganger had been created from?" Her voice quivers slightly; Elijah and Klaus. In love with the same girl. A girl that looked like Elena.

Stefan turns around and nods. He catches her gaze and holds it. "And the one whose blood had been used to turn them into vampires."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And she obviously couldn't choose between the brothers." He swallows and breaks eye contact, turning around and taking a sip of bourbon.

"Oh." Caroline gently lays her hand on his back and opens her mouth to say something to comfort him, something with more than one syllable. But before she can think of anything they both tense; a car is pulling up in front of the boarding house. They turn their heads toward the front door, and a few seconds later they hear the car doors thrown shut and steps on the gravel approaching the entrance, and eventually someone's knocking at the door. Stefan walks over and opens it, and he wordlessly raises his brows as he sees who's standing outside.

Elijah, Kol and a woman he has seen once or twice about 90 years ago. Gloria's sister.

"Stefan." Elijah offers him a rare half smile. "May we come in? We need to talk."

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Somehow Elena thought that once the spell was lifted she'd stand up and go on living her life like before.

It's not that easy.

After sucking in the first breaths, burning in her lungs like hell-fire, breathing got easier within a minute or two. Now she breathes in and out as if there had never been a spell preventing it. And although in the beginning her limbs felt as if each of them weighed a ton, she can move them now without difficulties.

What she hasn't anticipated though is this weakness; when she sits up she feels as if she had been out of it for weeks; her head feels like a merry-go-round, and Damon has to hold her trembling hands steady while drinking a glass of water. When they are about to leave Carl, she knows without trying that she couldn't stand on her legs, so Damon scoops her up in his arms again. At the car she insists in getting in on her own; he feels that she needs this little success, so he lets her down on her feet, his arm firmly wrapped around her waist, holding her wavering body, supporting her. With his help she manages to climb on the passenger seat, but afterward she feels worn out, more than after an hour of cross-training practice at home; she puffs up her cheeks in annoyance and leans her head against the headrest. Her eyelids fall shut, and she lets them, even though she doesn't want to. (Her eyes were so long forced to be closed, she just wants to _see_.)

She's so tired.

And she hates this so much.

When Damon gets in the car, he sees her pale face, her closed eyes, and immediately the worry that is still lurking close by lunges back at him; she looks much too similar to the paralyzed girl that was lying on the very same seat last night. He leans over to her to buckle her up, and when he detects a small tear slipping out between her lashes, he gently wipes it away.

She opens her eyes and forces a smile on her face. "Thank you."

"You okay?" he asks softly, starting the ignition to lend casualty to his being concerned.

She snorts, the feigned smile dissolving into frustration. "Never better. I love being invalid and having someone caring for me all the time. Almost as much as I love being the one who has to be saved from yet another act of mortal danger." She exhales with a grunt, squeezing her eyes shut for another second before staring blankly through the windshield then. "I'd rather you would've let me die than making me a charity case…" From the corner of her eye she sees him wincing slightly, and remorse soothes her features; she reaches over to lay her hand over his for a moment. "I'm fine." It slips out of her mouth without thinking; her every-day-lie for almost two years the only words coming to her mind to take back the slap in his face. The brief side glance, the raised brows he gives her tell her louder than any response that it's futile, that he sees right through her like he always does. She sighs. She knows she owes him more than her mask words. "It's just…I've been the freaking damsel in distress for long enough now. I'm so done with it. And…it scares me," she admits quietly, "it scares the hell out of me that…the spell will never loosen it's grip on me; that it'll leave me this weak for the rest of my life. And I'm so tired. How can I even be tired? I slept all the way from Mystic Falls…" She pulls her hand away in a huff, but Damon catches it and holds it in his; he doesn't look at her, he doesn't say anything. He just holds her hand in his, until eventually he feels the tension ebbing away.

After only a few minutes he pulls the car into the parking lot of a motel, and Elena gives him a bewildered look. "What are you doing?"

"You need to rest," Damon firmly states and shuts off the engine. He's sure that she will object, and of course she does.

"What? No! I can sleep in the car…"

"Elena," he cuts her short, "your face is as white as a ghost, and I can hear it from your heartbeat how exhausting it is for you to just sit there. You need to rest properly, and that means in a bed with clean sheets, and maybe I'll find you a teddy bear somewhere. Be a good girl and stay put while I'm gonna go fetch the keys." He gets out of the car and throws the door shut without leaving her time for an answer.

"It's not that I could run away with the front desk clerk…" she mutters, well knowing that he can still hear her; but the hint of anger fades away quickly and is replaced by gratefulness at the thought of actually lying in a bed, and when he comes back to scoop her up again, she doesn't even think of climbing out on her own.

In their room Damon lays her down on one of the beds, pulls off her shoes and tucks her in. Then he sits on the edge of the bed and glances at her.

"Don't be scared. It won't be like that forever. It was a hell of a ride for your body; you just need time to recover." He hesitates and searches for her eyes. "You know, I could help you in that department…"

He's surprised that she doesn't wipe his suggestion away; she must feel like hell to even contemplate for a second to drink his blood.

She looks up in his face, and she can see how much he wishes to help her; it's almost as if she can _feel_ his desire. And suddenly she gets an inkling about how he must have felt all that time. The fear and the feeling of helplessness are still etched on his face, and her mind snaps back to what she saw right before he compelled her. Again she chokes on tears, but she fights them back. She really doesn't want to cry anymore.

"Thank you for the offer, Damon," she says quietly. "Not today. But if I still feel like crap tomorrow, you can ask me again, okay?"

A small smile flits over his features and he nods. "Okay." He stands up and turns to leave, intending to lie down on the second bed and to take a nap, too. Not that he thinks that he really _can_ sleep actually; he assumes that he'll be too busy to listen to her breathing. Still, he hasn't slept in more than two days, and the thought of slipping between the sheets and rest a little is quite alluring. But before he can take a step away from her, Elena grabs his hand to hold him back.

"Damon?"

He turns to her, arching his eyebrows. "Yes, Elena?"

It's her hesitating now. Damon sees the struggle in her face, the fight between the part that obviously needs something from him and the part that isn't willing to need anything from anyone. She swallows. "I…could you…" She still feels those damn tears brimming in her eyes. "I was …alone…"

And suddenly he understands. In his mind's eyes he sees her lying in that cavern again, blind, paralyzed, barely breathing. All alone.

It's the epitome of fear what she lived through.

He understands.

"Elena, do you want me to sleep in your bed?" he asks softly.

She looks up at him, and his heart clenches at her sight. Never before she has looked so much like the scared girl she never was allowed to be. "Would you mind?" she asks in a small voice, and he raises one brow.

"It depends; will you torment my sensitive vampire hearing by snoring directly into my ears?"

He's relieved when his feeble attempt to lighten the mood gets rewarded by a wry grin.

"I bet you know that better than I."

"Move over," he smiles as he climbs onto the bed, but as soon as he lays down, his face becomes serious. They both lay on their sides, face to face, and he lifts his hand up to smooth some strands of her messy hair out of her face and tuck them behind her ear. "You know what the warlock told me? He said he hadn't presumed anybody to be capable of surviving that spell as long as you did." He pulls his hand back and shoves it under his neck, but his eyes keep roaming her face, caressing it. "He said you were obviously a very strong girl. I told him you were the strongest. Because you are, Elena. You're the goddamn strongest person I've ever met, in all your glorious stubbornness. But," he inches his head a little closer to catch her gaze, "you're allowed to be weak. You're allowed to need to recover, and you're allowed to cry."

She stares at him wide eyed, and as if she had needed his acceptance (maybe she did), the tears begin to spill, and she's not able to stop them anymore. They well up from deep inside of her, tearing all her fear, all the desperation of the last days with them to the surface. At first it's only about what she felt lying in that cave, all alone, dying. But then somewhere inside a dam breaks and lets loose thoughts carefully buried, scary and sad. She thinks of Bonnie, and that Damon has told her that still no one knows how to get her back. She thinks of the vampires she loves, Caroline, Stefan, Damon, who are still in mortal danger. She thinks of Jeremy, who should be safe in Denver, but she never trusts anyone to be safe anymore. She thinks of Jenna and John, of Isobel, who in her last moments had showed a glimpse of the mother she could've been. She thinks of the girl Elena Gilbert once was and of the girl that is capable of stabbing a vampire in the back who was willing to help them to kill her own brother. She thinks of the hurt she has caused to both of the Salvatores.

She thinks of the mess her life had become and of the mess she made.

And she cries.

Damon hesitates only a few seconds before he takes her in his arms and lets her cry into his shoulder. He doesn't say a word, he doesn't stroke her soothingly. He just holds her. He's just there; and he weirdly feels as if this was the best help he ever has given to her.

After a long while the tears finally cease. Neither of them moves, and he thinks that she's fallen asleep as she speaks up, her voice low and tired. "I won't yell at you."

"Huh?" Damon arches his brows; he has no clue what she's talking about.

"I wasn't mad at you when you compelled me to sleep."

She feels him tensing, and doubt resonates in his voice. "You were crying…"

"I was scared." It's not a lie. She _was_ scared. Yet, she can't tell him what really made her cry. After everything that happened, after all those hours lying alone in the dark with nothing left other than her thoughts, she still can't admit what she felt in that moment; not even lying in his arms. Especially not lying in his arms. And she can't do without his arms now. Not today.

She needs that, to feel him around her.

She knows that she's being incredibly selfish, but she needs this feeling of safety he's giving her. (She needs to feel _him_.)

Telling him what she saw last night, what he unwillingly showed her and what it did to her would open a box she can't open; not now. Not yet.

But she can take away the guilt he's feeling, at least that. "The thought of getting messed with my head scared the hell out of me, but I wanted you to do it all the same. I couldn't bear it any longer. And I trusted you." She shifts her head to look up at him and meets his eyes staring at her, and again she eerily feels as if she sensed his relief as she almost can hear the weight dropping off his mind. Their eyes locked, she thinks for a second he's going to kiss her again. (A part of her wished he did.) But he only takes a breath, swallows and nods once. He pulls her slightly closer and closes his eyes.

"Sleep now, Elena. You need it," he says gently. Her head is already turned back, her eyes are shut. She can't see it, but she can hear it, and she knows how it looks.

He smiles.

And as her mind begins to drift into sleep, she thinks about the pieces of what she has broken with her words that night; she can see clearly that nothing is fixed yet. One whispered word is not enough, she knows that. But in a brief moment of clarity, while slipping from one state into the other she sees that the pieces are shuffled closer together; and they still seem to fit. And when she falls asleep then, feeling utterly safe in his arms, she feels something she hasn't been feeling for a very long time.

It's an almost forgotten emotion.

Hope.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** There. I hope it's not kind of a let-down...Let me know what you think...


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...and Alaric wouldn't have died!

**A/N:** Yeah.

So much for my hope to never let it happen again to let you wait for 5 weeks. It's alomst 5 months now, and I'm so, so sorry. I bet you wrote it already off as abandoned. I did...and only one comment of a ff-friend about an update she got after more than a year kept me thinking about going on at all. And a late review I received eventually kicked me in the butt and pushed me into gear again (thank you, ladyluck2905!). And rediscovering all the wonderful reviews of my awesome readers. And that I hate it if authors abandon their stories. And that I actually liked the story. And...yeah. Here it is.

I know I didn't even reply to your great reviews. Real Life is a bitch nowadays, and I guess I never would've updated if I had tried to answer you, because I _so_ don't have the time to write at all...I hope you forgive me. I'll try to reply again...

This one is a monster again, but the next one will definitely have normal length. Really.

A HUGE 'thank you' to my wonderful beta; after not hearing anything from me for months, she went instantly back in beta-mode when she got the chapter, and as always she did a fabulous job! Thank you so much, Kymberleii!

Again: my sincere apologies for letting you wait that long.

I hope there's still someone out there who wants to read...

If so - enjoy!

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 12**

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><p>.<strong><br>**

The very first moments of awakening, still enfolded of sleep, but slowly drifting to the surface of reality, Elena senses that something is not as it should be. Fighting to free herself from the wrap around her mind, she forces her eyes open, squinting against the sun rays slipping past the curtains. Her gaze falls on the pillow right in front of her face, but only when her brain eventually adjusts to what her eyes see, she's all of a sudden wide awake.

She's alone.

Damon's gone.

She bolts upright the next second and her heart begins to race against her chest as a wave of panic floods her veins. He left her alone! She stares on his side of the bed, looking for a note, but she finds nothing, the dent in the pillow where his head laid the only evidence that he had been there at all.

"You okay?"

Her head jerks around at the sound of his voice coming from behind, and seeing him leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower he obviously took, relief washes over her.

"You're here…" she breathes.

Damon arches his eyebrows. "Where else would I be?"

She blinks. These words ring a bell, and although it was months ago, it takes her only a few seconds to figure out that they are resonating in her mind in _her_ voice. She thinks back at the night in Chicago when she had said them to Stefan, and it irritates her greatly when she thinks about the way she had meant them back then.

She wonders if they are meant the same way now, and she's even more irritated when she realizes that this meaning applies not only on his being here, but pretty much everything Damon had done during the last months. Saving and protecting her. _Where else would I be_? Silly question; by her side. He took it as his place to be a long time ago, no matter that Elena felt this way for his brother and still tends to see her place at Stefan's side. (For a split second she thinks that maybe, maybe it's just an old habit.) That she came to rely on him being there, that she almost simply had nodded to this statement - _that_ is what irritates her about those words. Of course, where else would he be? She had taken it for granted, never really questioned it.

And when his being there had been inconvenient, had blocked the path _she_ had chosen to be the right one, she had simply knocked him out of the way.

She cringes.

He still leans at the doorframe, watching her. He can practically see the wheels in her head turning. He knows that what he said was what made them spinning; he just has no clue what it was that his words set into motion. He thinks though that it has to do with him being here, not right now in this room, but with her on a Save-Elena-Trip. Again.

It's not that he really has _chosen_ to be here. He hasn't. But…_where else would I be_? His love for her had made this decision. Scratch that. It wasn't even a decision. Deciding involves contemplating alternatives. And there fucking weren't any.

He really tried. For almost 24 hours, he managed to stay away from her, to not answer her calls. The whole time he worked on drinking himself into oblivion, seeking support in the booze for his attempt to ignore her, hell, _needing_ the support to ignore her even when he was angry at her. Sadly vampires aren't made for getting totally wasted; their fast healing nature is made for being fantastic in holding their liquor. So it took Rebekah one mere minute to make him fail himself. (He thinks that it's kinda hilarious that it was Rebekah of all people ruining his attempt to let go of Elena.)

He doesn't regret having saved her. Of course not. If she had died…He's not sure if he would've survived long enough to find a way to survive.

But he regrets that his anger isn't that fresh, that raw anymore; it kinda chilled out over the fear. In plain view of her death, things changed again, their weight adjusted. When he thinks back he knows that he's still mad, but the fear for her life took away the edge; and he _needs_ the edge. Because he knows that nothing is ever going to change, and he knows that he has to let her go.

And still he's here for her as soon as she needs him to be…_Where else would I be?_ For a moment he feels the required anger flaring within him, anger about this ever-lasting game she plays of needing him, taking him and rejecting him. Anger about himself because he lets her play this game time and time again, lets her even throw his caring back into his face when it becomes a nuisance, and _still_ he comes running as soon as she needs him.

He sighs; he can't help running to the rescue because he loves her. And he knows that he will always be there, even if his love is unrequited. (He's still not sure whether this is pathetic or simply what love is about; he thinks probably a little of both.)

Then again…he thinks of the feeling he perceived from her when they were connected and the feeling of her arms around his neck earlier…

Hope's a bitch.

He snaps back to reality, and his eyes narrow as he sees her face changed. She sits on the bed, staring at him, her eyes wide open. There is no more sign of racing thoughts in her expression; instead she looks completely baffled.

He pushes himself away from the doorframe he's leaning on and steps a little closer to her, eyeing her thoroughly, looking for any signs of weakness or anything that could have evoked her bewildered expression. "You okay?" he repeats his still unanswered question from earlier.

She sits dumbstruck. Something _has_ happened, and she has not the slightest idea what it was. She felt…weird. Relieved to see him, then struggling with her irritation about his words one second; and then, out of the blue, she felt a flash of anger surging through her body. She's not angry about anything right now, she hasn't any reason to be; so where did that come from? She sees Damon approaching attentively, worry appearing on his face, and shakes her head to get rid of this strange feeling.

"Elena?" he asks cautiously, slowly sitting down on the bed, and then again, "You okay?"

She turns her focus toward him, suddenly aware that he's obviously waiting on an answer to a question she hasn't heard. "What?"

He tilts his head. "How do you feel?"

Right. She didn't feel very good before going to sleep… She pushes the disturbing thought of anger she's not supposed to feel aside, concentrating on finding the requested answer to wipe the concern away from his face. It's just then that, for the first time after waking up, she contemplates how she really feels now. Her head didn't spin when she sat upright, and she's not feeling as weak as before. That's something at least.

"Better, I think."

Under his warily observing gaze she disentangles her legs from the sheets and stands up, carefully, waiting for her knees to buckle, but nothing happens; she stands steadily on her legs, not wavering, not shaking. "Actually I feel pretty good," she says, and it sounds a little surprised. "Apart from the fact that I'm starving. I'd even consider eating that teddy bear you promised me to bring…"

He chuckles, and relief brightens his face. "That's good." He nods and straightens. "We'll fetch you something to eat when we're on our way, okay? We have to go on, find that other witch. You slept for 10 hours, and dusk sets in soon..." He trails off, determinedly suppressing the still lingering worry about her. For now she's okay, that's all that counts; they have time.

He gives her a reassuring smile. "You might want to take a shower before we leave," he suggests.

"Oh yeah, absolutely." She pads over to the bathroom, keen on letting hot water washing away the remnants of the days before.

She stops dead in her tracks when she hears his next words though.

"If you need anything…I'll be right here."

There it is again. She knows he just wants to make sure that, in case she breaks down from overstraining after that extraordinary weakness, she doesn't drown in the shower. Still… _Where else would I be?_ She turns around and eyes Damon, and for the first time since she's awake she really sees _him_, and suddenly she feels ashamed at what she sees.

He looks exhausted. She has never seen him looking even tired before, he's a vampire after all; he doesn't really need much sleep. However, it's not lack of sleep making him looking exhausted. Again the image of his eyes before he compelled her flits across her mind, and what she saw then… Those days must have been horrible for him, too. She feels her stomach tighten; she _knows_ how he must have felt. (She remembers very well the day when _he_ was dying.)

And until now she didn't have the slightest care about how he was doing.

It has been all about her.

She feels a blush of shame spreading over her face; she bites her bottom lip and walks back to the bed. Damon raises his brows questioningly; he sees of course that she has not just forgotten to take something to the bathroom, that she's on some kind of a mission instead. He watches her sitting down beside him; he tenses when she gingerly lays her hand on his arm and locks their eyes; there's something underlying the concern on her face, something…deeper he can't unriddle yet, and suddenly he feels all jittery inside.

"Thank you, Damon." Her voice is supposed to sound calm, but it doesn't. She has no idea why she is so nervous all of a sudden. She clears her throat and starts anew.

"Thank you for being there for me; for being there whenever I need you."

He holds her gaze, slightly shaking his head, as if she's saying silly things. And she is, because thanking him for being there when she needs him is like thanking the sun for rising. He opens his mouth to say something, but she interrupts him before he can utter a single word.

"Don't," she says, "just…don't say anything." And suddenly she feels the overwhelming need to make things right between them, reminding her of everything she felt lying in the cave, making words stumble out of her mouth she hadn't planned to say yet, not without thinking them thoroughly through.

"I know that you are still mad at me underneath the surface, and you have every reason to be…I shouldn't have Stefan taking you out, and for that I'm genuinely sorry. And what I said…it was stupid, and please believe me when I say that I didn't mean it the way you understood it."

She sees his eyes darken and she fights for words; she wants to explain what she meant, she really wants to, but suddenly there is that lump in her throat, making it impossible to speak past it. All the thoughts of the day before flash through her mind; she revives her desperate wish to tell him everything, her fear not to have the possibility anymore. It was what kept her alive in that cave. But now that she actually has the opportunity, it's like an invisible wall she's running against in her mind that doesn't let the words out she needs to say to make him understand. She curls her fingers into tight balls, as if to slam them against that wall to destroy it, but of course, it doesn't help. Because this, this is reality again; it's not the loneliness of the cave, no impending death clouds her view of the consequences. And her will to tell him everything isn't fueled by fear of never seeing him again. It's another fear that makes her losing her voice; the fear of admitting something that will change her life, for good.

Because she knows, once she breaks through, there will be no turning back.

She sees him waiting, can almost feel his hope and also feel it slowly fading when she doesn't find the right words.

There _are_ words popping up in her mind though, and she knows, if she finds her voice back, they will inevitably tumble from her lips. Words she can't even imagine telling him.

She's not yet ready for this.

She still doesn't know why acknowledging something she _knows_ deep down is the truth scares her so much. (She vaguely thinks that maybe she's just terrified to push fate to yet another big change in her life, when so many things already changed in the past three years, and almost every change in her life had turned out to be a change to the worse.)

She just knows it does.

So she seals them in into her very own tomb for words.

She sees his expression changing, sees the hurt she wanted to heal flashing in his eyes anew instead, and her heart clenches.

She feels incredibly helpless.

Damon sees her struggling. He knows there is more, but for some reason she doesn't tell him; she still holds back, her eyes wide with what he recognizes as fear, and he wonders what it could be scaring her so much that she couldn't tell him. He waits, silently waits, to give her time to find her next words.

Only they never come.

He feels cold disappointment spreading through his body.

Yes, she apologized. Twice now. And he knows it's not easy for her to admit having made a mistake. So yes, it isn't lost on him. But to be honest, the neck snapping was not the worst. That is something he absolutely could have done himself; doing what seems necessary and not caring about the collateral damage. It hurt nonetheless that _he_ was the collateral damage that she didn't care about, and that she felt the need to plot against him, with his brother of all people…oh well.

But for what really had hurt him that night…her apology for that part was kinda lame. She rejected him that night, big time, not just in the sorry-but-I-don't-love-you way he is used to anyway. It's not only that she doesn't reciprocate his feelings; she told him bluntly that she doesn't want him to actually _feel_ them, that they are even causing a problem. Right after he threw his love in her face, for the first time spoke it out loud without lying on his death bed. And loud it was, admittedly. He needed her so desperately to understand why her safety is so important for him. That he just _can't_ risk losing her. But of course she knew that already. _Maybe that's the problem_…She knew it and it was nothing but a nuisance to her, a burden she had to carry.

That's how he understood it then, and that's exactly how he understands it now. And it's not that he didn't think about any other possibilities. Of course he did. He had plenty of time to let his mind chew on those words and spit them out again; and nothing would've set him more at ease than finding a way to believe that he wasn't a burden for her.

But the words allowed him to find only one meaning.

And now she said there was another one. Well, it was well hidden then.

He knows he shouldn't pressure her. It's never a good choice with her.

But he can't help it; the need to prove himself wrong is too strong. And as so often, his mouth acts without approval of his brain.

"Then tell me how you meant it, Elena." His voice sounds like sand paper, sounds as raw as he feels inwardly. He watches her thoroughly, sees the pain in her eyes, sees her swallowing and opening her mouth; and for a few seconds he thinks she's going to tell him. For a few seconds he thinks she finally finds the courage to break through.

But all he sees then is her giving up.

Her mouth slowly closes again, her lips building a thin line.

And her eyes close too, breaking the connection to him.

She doesn't even struggle anymore. She just gives up.

Nothing ever changes.

The disappointment slowly turns into anger, battling with the hope inside that never quite disappears, as much as he wants it to sometimes.

But once again he has to concede that hope is pointless.

Nothing is ever going to change.

He swallows and straightens, unknowingly leaning away from her, putting some distance between them. He knows he's supposed to accept the apology; she admitted at least having been wrong. It would be the right thing to accept and move on.

But it's simply not enough for making up for the hurt she put him through. What he wants and what he feels he deserves from her is something different. More.

He would love to have the strength just to laugh at her, throwing sarcastic comments at her. Not to feel so needy.

He wants to stab her with something pointy, hurt her like she hurt him. (Because it hurts physically.)

He wants to kiss her senseless to finally make her see.

He doesn't do any of it.

Whatever he'd do, nothing's ever going to change anyway.

Instead he nods and stands up abruptly. He looks down at her for a second, and then he turns on his heels and storms out, slamming the door shut behind him with a bang. (It's the only thing he can do to stay sane.)

Elena hears him leaving, and everything in her screams to make him stop. She feels like she's lying in the cave, sensing him retreating from her all over again; she's as scared and as helpless as she was then.

The difference is, this time she knows a single word from her _could_ make him stop. But she remains silence. Because she's even more scared to stop him.

When she opens her eyes again he's already far away, blurred into the woods behind the motel.

She knows he'll come back soon; he would never leave her here, all alone.

But she also knows he will hate himself for coming back, and he will hate her for making him leave _and_ come back, for making him feel so weak. (For making him _feel_.)

And while she numbly walks to the bathroom, she wonders why the hell she is the one person in the world who manages to make things worse by apologizing.

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><p>.<p>

The tension in the library almost sizzles.

Abby eyes Gale furtively, taking a sip of her coffee every now and then, feeling more than uncomfortable in the presence of such a powerful witch.

Caroline doesn't even try to hide her unease. She stares at Kol, and something akin to hatred flickers over her features. Matt told her about the incidence on the balcony of the Mikaelson mansion, and an attempt to kill Matt, just for the fun of it, is enough reason for her to hate that guy. All the more as it stirs up those confusing feelings concerning his brother again, who's also perfectly capable of doing such things. And she's really _not_ in the mood to deal with that yet again.

Stefan never feels comfortable meeting Elijah anymore. Not since they both have called each other 'honorable men', and both have proven not to be. And the role he played in Elena meeting Esther, setting the whole thing in motion in the first place, doesn't make it any easier to relax.

The Originals are the only ones looking unfazed. Kol is grinning broadly, clearly amused by the hatred he elicits in Caroline, and Elijah looks like…Elijah. As usual he stays amazingly calm, even though knowing that the love of his life maybe is being resurrected by now, but captured by his mother, who already once killed her.

Sitting scattered on the couches and armchairs and feeling awkward, occasionally each one of them glances at Gale seeking contact to her sister again. They need to find out what it is Esther has to do to bring Tatia back and even more how the Original Witch will use her in her grand scheme.

The scenery is familiar; candles are flaring, rocketing up every now and then, Gale's eyes are shut, she's focused on the task at hand. Caroline thinks that she should get used to see a witch contacting dead witches meanwhile, but it still makes her nervous. So she's glad when Gale eventually gasps lightly and sits upright, opening her eyes, a hint of confusion in her gaze for a second as if she awakes from a dream.

Five pairs of eyes are staring at her, eager to hear about a possibility to stop Esther. She looks from one to another, holding each one's gaze for a few seconds; she finds determination to do what's necessary in every pair of eyes she meets with hers, except for the last one. Abby barely looks up long enough to see Gale's scrutinizing gaze on her and how her face changes slightly, taking in a strange mixture of pity and insecurity. Caroline sees her friend's mom shudder under that gaze, and she understands it; she's relieved that it didn't hit herself.

Then Gale turns to Elijah.

"The old white oak tree was burnt down back then. As far as I know the ashes have been saved?"

Elijah nods. "Yes. It's what Niklaus…and some others…," his eyes wander briefly to Stefan, "used to kill me and my siblings. Well, not permanently, of course." The hint of an amused smile scurries over his face.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Where is it now?"

Elijah eyes the witch, his head a fraction inclined, and then he raises one brow; he thinks he knows now what Gale found out, he should've known even before she contacted her sister. He knows what Esther's goal is after all, and he learned enough about witchcraft over the centuries to have a pretty good idea what she'll need to accomplish it. "Well, Klaus has some of it in his possession," he says before turning his head questioningly toward Stefan. The younger Salvatore stands up, walking the path that once was so much just his older brother's path, but somehow turned to be his now too; he pours himself some bourbon into a tumbler, looking around then at the others.

"Anyone else care for one?" When he sees all vampires nodding despite the early hour, he fills three more glasses and hands them over. "We have some of the ashes, too," he says nonchalantly then. He casts a sideways glance at Elijah, expecting another comment on how he remembers this particular truth, but his face shows no reaction

"But I don't know where it is," Stefan adds. "Damon has it, and he is a little…secretive with it. What do you need it for?" Stefan casually leans against the wooden gallery railing, eyeing the witch curiously. He wonders if she knows about the circumstances that led to her sister's death; he has no intention to fill her in about his involvement though; chances are that she wouldn't like it, and he prefers not to have a witch as an enemy. Especially because they seem to depend on her help in fighting back the threat that Esther imposed on them.

Gale shrugs her shoulders. "I don't. But Esther does." She pauses, and Caroline wonders whether she does it for dramatic effect. (She thinks that there _really_ is no need to add dramatic effects to the drama.)

She interrupts the silence impatiently. "For what?"

Gale looks at her, and the surprise in her features isn't feigned. "I thought you all knew how the spell went down back then…"

Caroline glances to Elijah and his brother, and she can see that those two obviously know what Gale is talking about, whereas Stefan and Abby seem to be nearly as clueless as she is. With increasing impatience, she addresses the eldest Original. "Could someone spill the beans, maybe? You know, some of us weren't around when vampirism was invented."

Elijah seems to take this as his cue. He rises (Caroline has the odd feeling that he instantly feels more comfortable; she thinks that he's kinda not made for sitting around) and walks over to a bookshelf, his eyes roaming over the books' spines for a few moments before he turns around to explain.

"It's about the spell that made us vampires. Mother used several items to perform it; amongst others Petrova blood and wood of the white oak which gave us immortality. The spell decreed that the very thing that gave us life could also take it away. That's why a stake from that tree could kill us for good, but you knew that already. But there's more to that. See, to undo a spell, it is usually required to use the same ingredients and circumstances as for casting the spell."

Caroline can practically hear the 'click' when the wheels in her head snap into place. "You mean…Esther strives for undoing the spell that made you vampires? But…what does that mean? What happens to you then? You'd be human again? Isn't that a good thing?" The questions stumble out of her mouth faster than anyone could answer them. She sees Kol and Gale sharing an awkward look, but it's Stefan answering then.

"It probably would be, if they weren't pretty much dead then."

Caroline gapes at him as the truth finally dawns on her. "Of course. As humans…you all were dead." The Originals would all be dead. Wasn't that what they wanted to achieve all along? Then why does she feel this tiny prickle deep down somewhere in her belly? She tries to shake off the slight feeling of unease and turns to Gale. "So Esther needs Petrova blood and the ashes of that tree, right?"

"It's not only Petrova blood. The curse placed on Klaus was specifically bound to Petrova blood. _This_ spell however has been cast with Tatia's blood. That's why Esther needs to resurrect her. She needs her blood and the ashes."

Stefan suddenly realizes that in-between all the Elena drama no one has told Caroline about the implied consequences of Esther's attempt to murder her children. "Caroline," Stefan draws the blonde's attention, pushing himself away from the railing and walking over to Caroline, settling beside her then. "It might well be possible that undoing the spell turns out to affect us all."

Caroline's mouth falls open, her eyes go round. "You mean…we're all gonna die?" She jumps on her feet. "So we have to get the ashes first, right?" she announces, anxiety creeping in her voice. "Let's get going." She looks around and sees the others hesitate, and suddenly the impatience gnawing at her threatens to turn into anger. "What's wrong with you? You all sit and babble when all we have to do is go and fetch the ashes from Klaus," she huffs.

"Yeah, because he will be delighted to hand it over…" Stefan mutters darkly.

"Wow! Blonde and brain really contradicts each other." Kol mocks, his face all surprised expression. "Do you really think my pain in the ass brother will give up his favorite toy that easily?"

Caroline gives him a killing glance, but before she can shoot back, Stefan chimes in.

"He's right, Caroline. What do you want to tell him? 'Klaus, give us the ashes you love to plunge into your siblings so we can hide it from your murderous mommy, because we're so brilliant with our choices of hiding places? Pretty please?'"

"I don't know, Stefan, but I'll try. Besides, he should at least be warned. It'll be good enough if he hides it himself, don't you think? It only matters that Esther can't lay her hand on it, right?" Caroline glares at her friend and is already heading to the front door when she gets unexpected support.

"I'm coming with you," she hears Elijah's calm voice right behind her, and she's relieved not to have to visit Klaus all on her own. The Original nods toward her before he turns back to Stefan. "Call your brother. We need to know where his stash is hidden."

And with these words the two vampires are gone.

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><p>.<p>

A drawing of her.

Again.

He can't believe it. How did that happen? He hadn't intended to draw her yet again. But apparently his fingers do whatever they want to of their own volition.

And mostly, it seems, they want to draw that gorgeous girl.

No wonder that they do this though. Whenever he has some peace and quiet, her image shows up in his head.

But it's even worse.

Lately when he thinks of her, there's such a fluttery feeling inside of him, deep down, at this place where there definitely shouldn't be any feeling at all.

Let alone a flutter.

It is so long ago he felt something akin to this that it appears unknown, new.

Nice, somehow.

And it's not that it does any harm to have a little flutter in his stomach every now and then, right? It doesn't mean anything. Just a little thrilling. No danger in sight, right? It's not that he's in love after all.

Of course not.

Right?

He shifts in unease, staring at the floor in front of him, blankly.

In the beginning it was fun. She has something, a spark he rarely has seen in other girls in his long life. A careless self-confidence, paired with a natural mirth. And she's not hard on the eyes either. Plus: she's with his very first hybrid, and she was really pissed off about the sire bond he's blessed with. She hated him like everybody else of the merry little gang his doppelganger has gathered around her. Maybe even more.

Quite the challenge.

He loves challenges. He always wins. Sometimes with a little help of his eyes, but particularly with girls his charm usually does the trick.

But not with her. Not at first, at least. She knows too well who she's dealing with, he has wreaked too much havoc around her. She rejected him, in her very own, very special way. Fearlessly telling him the flaws she sees. Fuelling his desire for her even more, spurring his ambition.

So he upped the ante.

After what he knew about her (he _might_ have investigated a little) and what she'd told him the night of the ball, he knew he had to provide her something else. A flicker of humanity. He was sure to stir up doubt in her, and once she opened her heart a little bit, he'd make sure to deepen the gap and change her opinion.

Then he could have some fun with her. Until he'd have enough and then get rid of her.

Except that it didn't work.

Oh, everything went well. His drawing had the wanted effect on her; she gave in, a little bit; enough to go shopping with him. Then he played his trump card: Marie. And Caroline was visibly impressed. He could see her conviction wavering, and he heard her crying after bringing her home, because she didn't _want_ to like him. But after showing her this 'other side' of him, she couldn't help it. His feigned humanity had begun to melt away her distrust. Jackpot.

Yeah, right.

Only that it wasn't feigned.

He had no idea how that had happened, but it had been completely _him_ that day. A part of him he almost had forgotten about, he hadn't wanted to think of ever again.

Damned, this girl!

He had wanted to trick her into liking him. Instead she had lured out a part of him that he had shut down many centuries ago, and for a good reason. He couldn't afford any weaknesses. Marie was one of the few people, who knew this part of him; it came as a refreshing change from time to time. It was okay to let her think he was that kind of guy, because she was like a lonely island; isolated, no mutual acquaintances. Nothing to lose there.

But Caroline? That was quite a different kettle of fish.

This _was_ getting dangerous. So he decided to stop that game. Until he met her gaze after him attacking Damon at his house the day before, hearing her contemptuous words.

And finding himself oddly…hurt.

He didn't know why exactly he went there, but he found himself at her bedroom later, eliciting another speech of her he didn't want to listen to (but he did), relishing all the same the heart she put in her words.

When he had left her, he realized that the whole act he had put on hadn't been an act at all.

Crap.

He tries to banish her from his mind ever since, tries really hard to distract himself.

It's just pointless.

He stares at his hands, at the coal girl they unwillingly have drawn, and again he feels that flutter in his stomach.

Fuck.

He leaps up, sending the sketch-pad he'd been balancing on his legs flying to the floor, taking the recent drawing with it.

It's too dangerous. He picks up the drawing from the floor and walks over to a table on the other side of the room. It's littered with drawings of that girl; he gathers them in a rushed movement and takes them to the fireplace, fully intending to throw them into the crackling fire and sending every thought of her with them to burn himself clean when he hears a hushed noise.

He cocks his head; he's supposed to be alone in the house. He directs his focus to where he had heard the noise from, and he tenses; it's coming from his bedroom.

He discards the drawings back on the table and blurs upstairs, quietly as only a vampire can, and peeks through the door crack.

Bonnie, aka Esther. Carefully ruffling through his closet, obviously looking for something. How could she even get in the house without him hearing it? She's not a vampire after all. His eyes catch a glimpse of a movement, and tearing his glance in the direction he saw it, he knows the answer. It's a thin wisp of smoke; burning sage. Obviously it didn't work properly while she was still in motion, sneaking through his house; lucky him, because it can't be of any good for her to be here unnoticed.

"Now look what the bats dragged in."

His voice, as velvety as if he's speaking to a lover, startles her, and she tenses. Slowly she turns around to meet his eyes, hers as icy as his, contradicting the softness of his voice.

There's so much hatred on both sides that the air between them seems to burn. But she has her voice under control just as he has. Sounding all like the concerned mother she pretended to be when she reappeared after a thousand years, she steps a little closer.

"Niklaus," she almost purrs, "you look a little…troubled. Can I help you with anything?"

"Sure," he smiles at her, and nothing betrays his true feelings. "Let's see; you could leave me alone? Stop sneaking secretly through my house? Maybe even stop trying to kill your children, one of whom happens to be _me_?" He slowly approaches her, and the friendliness in his face is replaced by the same menace that rings in his voice now.

Esther doesn't flinch, he must give her that; she stands her ground. Raising her hands in a mollifying gesture, she tries to appease him. "I have to do that, Niklaus. I made a mistake when I didn't listen to Ayana's advice, and I have to finally undo it. Finn understood that. I really wished you could too."

Klaus laughs, a cheerful laughter as if enjoying a little banter. "Yes, right. I lived long enough, now, didn't I? We all did, right?" He still doesn't know why she came here, and he contemplates if he should kill her right now or try to get it out of her before he ends her borrowed life. The mentioning of Finn reminds him that there is one more loose end to fix, so he opts for refraining from killing her immediately.

"Speaking of my traitorous brother – where is he?" he asks casually, turning away from her and strolling through his bedroom, seemingly absently picking up a book from the dresser, turning it in his hands and placing it back.

This time she can't prevent her eyes from averting her son's for a moment before she regains control. "Finn's dead, Niklaus. He chose the right way. The Bennet witch saw him dying, didn't she tell you?" She raises her chin to make good for the little lapse of her eyes.

He lifts his head up and turns toward her again, his eyes narrowed. "A little bird twittered to me that he has been seen in Big Apple. How is this possible if he's dead, Mother?"

She shrugs; actually she doesn't really care if he's alive and if Klaus is going to kill his brother. In the end they all will be dead.

Klaus waves the subject away with his hand. "Let us not be bothered by your suicidal son. Let's talk about you instead." In a flash, he has her pinned against the wall, his hands firmly closing around her throat, leaving her no time to react. "What do you want, Mother? Besides killing us?" His voice is still calm, yet the threatening tone is impossible to ignore.

"I…," she croaks out, "I…wanted to see you for a last time…you know I love you, Niklaus…"

Pure hatred is blazing in his eyes at her words. They resonate too much of derision; she might as well have told him that she never loved him just like his father did. His hands push her wind-pipe shut of their own volition, and suddenly he feels pain searing through his head. But she hasn't enough power to really hurt the hybrid; it only fuels his rage and makes his hands pushing even more, and he watches her face getting scared at first, and then panic lets her eyes go wide before she begins to lose consciousness. Only then he lets go of her, hurling her a few yards away from him. Gasping for air she lands on the floor, her shoulder painfully crashing into his closet doors. He watches her without pity, his jaws set, his lips a grim line. He will kill her, but he still doesn't know what she wanted to achieve by coming in his house, what she was looking for earlier.

"Why are you here?" he snarls at her, rushing to her, gripping at her collar and hauling her up again.

"I told you," she says weakly, "I wanted to tell you how sorry…" She doesn't get further. A deep growl escapes Klaus' throat.

To hell with finding out her intention.

He lets his fangs break through his gums and rejoices in her panicked expression. He bends his head back to gain enough momentum to plunge his teeth into her flesh, relishing the prickling underneath his eyes.

The split second before he can throw his head against her neck, a new voice startles him out of his joy.

"Klaus! Stop!"

Caroline's voice.

His hands firmly gripping the witch's shoulders, his head spins around. In the doorframe stand Caroline and Elijah.

He doesn't care; he just wants to finally kill the woman that gave him life, twice, and wants to take it from him now.

The woman that had turned her back on her son for a mistake she herself had made once.

He turns his head back to her, focusing on the mortal fear in her eyes, and a broad grin tugs up his lips, baring his fangs even more.

"She's my friend."

He stops amidst the movement.

The words are spoken quietly, but somehow that's even worse.

No. Nonono.

Oh no. He won't stop because it's _her_ who's asking for it.

But he doesn't move.

"Why am I supposed to care?" His voice is hoarse now; his eyes are never leaving the scared face inches away from his deadly fangs.

Caroline steps closer, shrugging off his brothers hands that are trying to hold her back. Fearlessly again.

Shit.

He _does_ care.

"Because, oh I don't know, you _fancy_ me?" She challenges him, throwing his words into his face, using them for the second time against him.

No.

He won't let her win this game. He moves slightly to end what he started.

And then she does something he doesn't expect. In a blink she stands next to him. She doesn't say a word. But she raises her hand and places it on his arm.

Gently.

He can't help but looking at her, at her hand first, then at her face, and the moment he sees her pleading eyes he knows he lost this battle. He can already feel his grip loosening.

"She wants to kill us all. You'll probably die along with us, Caroline." It's a feeble attempt to argue, he knows that. Those damn humans value the life of a friend more than anything else. (He doesn't realize that in this moment he thinks of Caroline as a human.)

He was never before so grateful to hear Elijah's voice as he is at his next words. Just for giving in to the girl's wish not being the only reason to let his mother live a little longer.

"Caroline has a point here, Niklaus. You won't kill Mother, only the body she lives in. She would just invade another body, I presume; yours, mine, Caroline's. Maybe she wouldn't be able to do any magic then, but she'd still be alive. Bonnie wouldn't, and we'd have to deal with yet another possessed body."

Klaus lets out an unhappy chuckle. "A thousand years, and she still messes with me." He lets go of her throat, only to punch his fist against her temple the next moment, sending her into unconsciousness; then he lets her just fall to the ground, disgust seeping from his every pore. Without a last glance at her he turns around and crosses the room, clearly intending to leave it to Elijah to deal with the witch.

"Klaus?"

He stops when he hears her voice saying his name, without turning the slightest, and waits.

"Thank you."

Now he turns his head and looks at her, holding her steady gaze for a few seconds. And he knows that she knows. He swallows and nods.

"You're welcome, love."

And then he leaves.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** There it is. I'd be delighted if there's still someone reading, and I really hope you liked it...If so, please tell me!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...and Alaric wouldn't have died!

**A/N:** You guys, I'm so happy that so many of you are still with me, still reading and (hopefully) still liking this!

Thank you so much for your support, all the new followers and favs and especially your reviews made me so glad! I always love to read what you think!

Here it is, the new chapter; much shorter, but only little more than a week after posting the last one. That's improvement, right?

Many hugs to you Kymberleii, thank you soo much!

Here it goes, I hope ypou all enjoy...

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 13**

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><p>.<strong><br>**

The door falls shut behind Klaus, and for a few seconds the silence is complete.

Elijah looks at the closed door, and his slightly raised brows show his surprise. Did this just happen? Did Klaus really relent? Elijah can barely remember any other occasion seeing Klaus open to arguments. Of course Klaus may be many things, but he's not stupid. He certainly understood the necessity of keeping their mother alive. Still, Elijah can't shake the feeling that it wasn't for his reasoning with his brother that he caved in. That look he gave Caroline…her hand on his arm…There was something going on between the two of them.

Elijah doesn't know Caroline very well, so he couldn't tell whether her behavior had been strange. But he knows his brother, and he knows for a fact that he hasn't seen him acting like this for centuries. _Are you so foolish to care for her?_ Niklaus never cared. He used and threw away, not caring if dead or alive. That was how he handled things with women and everyone else. But this? Elijah is pretty sure that this has everything to do with caring. Caring for that girl.

He shifts his glance to said girl and watches her thoroughly, and his eyebrows rise a little higher at the sight of the mixed feelings he detects in her face. Because aside from worry, relief and mild astonishment he sees sincere affection, and this is something he never would have expected, the least from one of Elena's best friends.

What the hell was going on here?

Caroline turns toward him, and when her eyes meet his scrutinizing ones, a trace of redness colors her cheeks. To conceal her embarrassment, she looks at the lifeless body of her friend and breaks the silence.

"So, we got her. What now? Can we force her to somehow leave Bonnie's body?"

Elijah turns his attention to the unconscious witch. He looks at her for a few seconds, contemplating their options. Then he sighs deeply. "I really don't know what to do with her. This isn't my department. I think it would be best to tie her up first. I'm going to fetch a rope. Stay here and guard her, I'll be back in a moment."

Caroline stares at him, and he can tell that she doesn't like what he suggested. "What do I do when she comes to again? I mean…she's a witch…and totally powerful, and she can…you know…do that witchy stuff with her _mind_…"

Elijah shrugs. "If she comes to, render her unconscious again."

"What? How? She's a _witch_!" Caroline's eyes go even wider than before.

Elijah just casts her a brief glance before he turns to the door. "Punch her," he says casually while leaving the room, and Caroline is left alone. "Punch…Bonnie?" she whispers incredulously and looks down at her best friend's crumpled form, and then she suddenly yells, "Hurry up!"

She startles when she hears Elijah's voice right beside her. "No need to hurt my ears. I'm here."

"Wow," Caroline mumbles, "that was…fast." But she is relieved that she's not alone with the witch anymore. Elijah kneels down and binds Bonnie, carefully but tight enough to prevent her from moving. Then he straightens up and watches her pensively. He doesn't know what to do now; they need to keep her alive, but Caroline was right. The witch _can_ do a lot of her witchy stuff with her mind, and he has no idea what exactly she could achieve. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket, scrolls through his contacts until he finds his youngest brother's number and pushes the button to dial.

It takes only a brief moment until Kol's voice comes from the cell, and as much as he probably liked to, he can't hide his concern_. "Is everything okay? You have it?"_

A small smile scurries over Elijah's face. "We have something better. We just don't know how to keep it. Let me speak to Gale please, I have a few questions." He hears Kol and Gale talking in the background, and then it is Gale's voice in the phone.

"_Elijah? What's up?"_

"It's my mother. She snuck into the house, probably looking for the ashes; but Niklaus caught her."

"_Did he…kill her?"_ Gale's voice sounds alarmed now, unknowingly confirming to Elijah that they did the right thing in preventing his brother from killing her.

"No. He wanted to, but we came in time. We held him back and…convinced him not to do it." He hears her inhale sharply; she is as surprised as he was about convincing Klaus to restrain from killing Esther, but she doesn't ask. Throwing Caroline a furtive glance, he sees her averting her eyes; she _is_ embarrassed, it wasn't just his imagination.

He directs his attention to the task at hand again. "Listen, I know enough about witchcraft to know that locking up a witch is not easily done. Even bound she is capable of casting a spell, right?"

"_Yeah, some of them; and Esther probably more than anybody else considering how powerful she is. You have to be very careful. Where is she now?"_

Elijah observes Bonnie's body warily in order not to miss the slightest sign of regaining consciousness. "Right in front of me. She's unconscious currently; Niklaus knocked her out. But it won't last forever. What can I do to keep her locked up without putting us in danger?"

"_The safest place would be a dungeon like the one here in the basement,"_ Gale muses aloud, "_but I'm not so sure if it's such a good idea to have her here in the house…with all the people living in here,_" she adds; but her brief hesitating doesn't escape Elijah's notice. He knows immediately that it's Abby she doesn't trust, and he wonders whether she has a better reason for it than just the witch currently being, apart from Gale, the only non-vampire in the house and therefore the only one possibly not adverse to Esther's plans.

Yet, he's distracted by Caroline, who excitedly grabs his forearm. He looks at her questioningly, not completely able to hide an amused twinkling in his eyes; she's still so young…

"A dungeon, right?" She whispers, and as she sees him nodding, a happy smile tugs up the corners of her lips. (He's sure she has no clue about how adorable she looks like that.) "I know of the best place ever to keep that bitch locked up tight; absolutely escape-proof. Believe me, I tested it myself…"

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><p>.<p>

She finds him on the stairs outside the room. He sits there, staring into the distance. He doesn't move a muscle when he hears her coming out, but she sees his shoulders getting tense, just a fraction.

She swallows. She kept trying to find words to tell him while he was out, words innocuous enough to explain without revealing too much, or at least words to show him how sorry she is for the hurt she caused, but they still failed to come to mind. Everything she can think of saying in order to set things right with him would inevitably set other things into motion. And she still can't do that. (Why the hell has the apology he deserves to get from her to dangle so close to those things she can't tell him?)

So she settles on avoiding.

She takes a few steps toward him, attempting to shove the wedge between them at least a little aside, but before she can even think of joining him on the stairs he jumps up abruptly.

"Ready to go?" he asks without looking at her, his tone light, his expression carefully guarded.

Obviously he settles on avoiding, too.

She sighs, relieved and frustrated in equal measures.

Okay then, if that's how they keep handling things, so be it. (For now, she thinks.)

"Yes. I'm ready" she says calmly.

(She wonders when she really will be ready.)

..

It takes some time to find a way back to relative normality between them.

They start out sitting in the car without talking. Elena stares out of the side window, Damon grips the steering wheel a tad too tight.

After a while he turns on the radio. Elena likes the song that is playing, and despite not really being in the mood, she taps one foot to the rhythm. When the refrain sets in and she even quietly starts to sing along, Damon's hand suddenly shoots to the radio and changes the channel.

"Hey!" It blurts out without thinking, and she startles when she realizes it, as if she had crossed a boundary.

Damon narrows his eyes a little. "Driver picks the music." He says it matter-of-factly, not really unfriendly. And then he turns to her slightly and smirks. He proceeds to skip channels until he finally finds what he was looking for; it's an old, pretty cheesy song, and he knows she doesn't like it. So does he, but her blazing eyes are worth the price, and grinning broadly he sings along loudly and cheerfully.

"Seriously? This is what you pick?" She stares at him incredulously.

"What? It's heartwarming, don't you think?" He turns the radio a little louder and increases his effort to sing. Elena just rolls her eyes and leans back.

"'Driver picks the music.' That is _so_ not fair. It's _always_ you driving…" she mutters, but she's glad that the tension finally is broken.

She doesn't catch the brief side glance he throws her and the pain as well as the hint of anger flickering in it for a second before he shifts his mask in place again.

..

They are on the road all night. They stop briefly to get her something to eat and to refill the tank, but apart from that one stop they keep driving. Although Elena just sits on the passenger seat and doesn't have to drive, she soon feels tired again, and she is even more grateful that he forced her to take the break at the motel. The way she felt that morning, she can't even imagine how she would have felt now without sleeping during the day.

On the outside, they seem to be back to their normal selves; they bicker and tease each other as usual. They talk, laugh and altogether act completely normal.

Except they don't touch each other.

In silent agreement they both avoid touching however brief and unintentional, but they both do their best to ignore this strain between them.

Shortly after midnight Elena dozes off again, and he gladly lets her. He knows she still needs to recover, and he is relieved that at least for a while he's released of pretending everything's normal and fine.

Because it isn't.

Everything is kind of normal, but sure as hell nothing is fine.

_He's_ not fine.

He's disappointed and sad and annoyed and hurt and pissed, and he doesn't know which of those the most.

Probably most of all he's pissed. At her, but maybe even more at himself. Because again he sits here, in the car with her, putting up a good face, while everything inside him yearns for…he doesn't even know for what. Anything is better than this; at least if it's without her, when her sheer presence is a constant reminder of everything he's longing for but never will have.

There is just the tiny problem of her needing him right now. As in her life is depending on him. And of course he can't leave her alone here if it maybe means sentencing her to death.

So he bites the bullet and stays. And if he has to be with her anyway, he might as well act like everything is okay. It's purely self protection; if he let on how he really feels, it would only lead to her interrogating him, and he's really not in the mood for baring his soul to her; again.

When he was in the woods earlier, after that piss poor example of an apology of hers, he decided once and for all to finally leave the hope behind. Whatever she feels for him (and he doesn't doubt that there is more to it than she wants to realize), it will never lead up to what he so desperately wishes for. So he shut it all down, the feeling of bitterness, the hope…the love.

He snorts. Yeah, right. If only he could. That's the whole point; that he just _can't_ shut down the love for her.

But his resolve has grown sky high again to try harder than before.

He throws her a side glance, lets his eyes briefly wander over her face, looking so peaceful in her sleep. He muses about his thoughts in the woods, the thought of maybe even leaving Mystic Falls once the current problems are solved. But who is he kidding? He knows there will be new problems that will make it impossible to leave her behind in danger. Weren't there always?

Thus he will be forced to keep on fighting and pushing down his hope on a daily base. And almost everything else he feels, too. And as usual he won't succeed.

Damned emotions.

But he's determined to stop pining over her. Not to behave like the lovesick idiot he was for Katherine's sake for one and a half century. And for as much in years now for Elena's.

He thinks that after everything he already went through, he really deserves to finally find a way out of the everlasting pain.

What do they say? It's better to be mad at someone who hurt you, that it's easier this way?

Sadly another side-glance at her tells him that even getting mad won't help him to let go of her.

He sighs deeply and focuses on the road in front of him.

He can at least try to keep his eyes in check.

(He thinks that it's a start.)

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In the middle of the night, Abby wakes with a start. She can't for the life of her figure out what it was waking her up; she doesn't remember any noise, yet it felt like waking up from a peal of thunder, making her sitting upright in her bed within a blink of an eye. Her heart is racing, and she immediately feels that something is off. Someone is in her room. At first she's paralyzed in fear, not daring to move a muscle. Then, slowly, she inches her hand toward the small lamp on her nightstand, eager to break the darkness in her room, but terrified to evoke a reaction in the presence she feels. Yet, before her hand is halfway to its way to the light switch, she realizes that she doesn't need the room to be brighter anymore. Whoever it is, _what_ever it is in here, it has gotten so powerful that it's almost tangible.

At the same time as the image of a woman begins to form before her bed, an eerie calmness banishes all feelings of fright. And when she hears the woman's voice, she almost feels relieved, as if she was waiting for this to happen for a lifetime.

"Abby Bennet."

The voice seems familiar, although Abby is sure that she never heard it before. "You're Ayana." It's not a question, and she doesn't expect an answer. "I'm here," she adds, and although she realizes that in fact she didn't say a word, that the conversation somehow happens in her mind, it feels just natural. She doesn't wonder about anything, she doesn't ask. There's no need to.

She knows everything is as it should be.

When Ayana speaks up again, there is no room for doubt in Abby. "I need you to perform a very important task. It's not without danger, but your reward will be a safer world. Are you willing to do this, Abby Bennet?"

Abby doesn't hesitate, not for a second. She nods once emphatically. "We're family. Of course I'll do everything you ask me to." She's aware that not two minutes ago, she never would have done anything Ayana had asked of her (let alone anything dangerous), because she knows that what her ancestor from the mists of time wants to happen is the exact opposite of what Bonnie and her friends want to achieve. Abby wouldn't have any qualms of getting rid of all vampires, but some of them are her daughter's friends, and playing a part in killing them is not bound to make amends for leaving her all those years ago, or for not seeking out help to get her back after the incident in the woods, for that matter.

Yet, she feels oddly separated from herself, and nothing is important anymore but Ayana's request. It feels perfectly right to ignore the voice in her head that is quietly objecting.

Everything is as it should be.

And then there is nothing left to ignore, because the world as it was ceases to exist, leaving behind only Ayana and the task she assigned to Abby.

"What do you want me to do?" Abby's voice is steadfast as her will. She will help her ancestor; however stretched the family ties are, she's family. She doesn't notice the hint of satisfaction appearing on the witch's face before she answers with a counter question.

"I know you use to work with herbs. Do you have sage in your possession?"

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The new day dawns; thin veils of fog are hanging over the fields alongside the road as Elena opens her eyes, her head still leaning heavily against the cool side window.

The very first thing she realizes is that she feels incredibly sad. It's almost as if she grieved a great loss, only that she has no idea whom or what she could be mourning. She rummages through her mind, trying to remember what she dreamt about, but as far as she can tell, she slept deeply and dreamlessly. She blinks irritated; what the hell is going on with her feelings lately? She remembers the unexplainable flash of anger she experienced the day before. She almost forgot about the incident, but now…Something is wrong, she just cannot put her finger on it.

She lifts her head, shaking it impatiently to get rid of that confusing feeling, and looks at Damon, seeking any sort of reassurance (she's so used to being reassured by him); but instead she is taken aback.

She sees him briefly glancing at her, and when he notices that she is awake, he immediately shifts his mask back in place and smiles; but she's sure that she caught a glimpse of something else entirely before.

And what she saw this brief moment matches exactly what she feels.

Baffled, she stares at him as a realization suddenly hits her. It's not the first time that she experienced something like this. Her mind wanders back to the hours in the motel room, and she remembers the relief she felt when _she_ had absolved _him_ from the guilt of having compelled her; the strong desire to help her body recover with a little vampire blood; the hope she felt and its fading when she delivered her feeble and failed attempt of an apology. And like the anger, each of those was an emotion she wasn't supposed to feel.

But Damon was.

Slowly a suspicion sneaks in, and the longer she thinks about it, the deeper it digs its claws in. Voices resonate in her head, and she can't shut out scratches of a conversation she heard the morning before about possible side effects of those herbs the warlock wanted to use on her. She remembers Damon hesitating to accept, but she was too caught up in fighting for her life to care about it.

And all of a sudden she knows. Her mind flips back to the cave, to the moments she shared with Damon in there when in reality he was somewhere else. They haven't talked about it yet, but she knows that it wasn't just a vivid imagination; that they have been connected somehow. (She thinks it was what helped him find her.) She felt his presence in her mind, and she felt his emotions then, too.

The pieces fall in place, and everything fits together. The connection in the cave, the herbs Carl used on her, the weird emotions she feels every now and then – this is what Damon dreaded, why he hesitated. With a sudden surety she knows that _he_ felt what she thought to feel, that right now _he_ was that sad. (She feels hot tears welling up, because she knows it's because of her.)

She opens her mouth, takes a breath to say something, anything, to take away this sadness, as just in time it dawns on her.

He hesitated. Even though her life was on the line, for a brief moment he hesitated to accept Carl's suggestion.

Because he was afraid of letting her know his feelings. Oh, of course she _knows_ that he loves her. That's not really news flash. But to let her actually dig around in his head (in his heart) is something completely different. The idea of her really _feeling_ his love for her, to recognize the extent of it, is beyond scary to him.

She knows that, because she already felt it. And, truth be told, it scared the hell out of her too. As much as it gave her strength to hold on to life, in the end it left her even more afraid to face the truth than she was before.

And suddenly she realizes he would hate it if he knew. That he even hated the possibility for this to happen again.

(And still he went along to save her.)

She feels blood rushing into her face and her mouth snaps shut again. He can't know this. Even if it means she can't help him right now. She sees him glancing at her, narrowing his eyes a little, suspiciously, and she forces her face into an expression of indifference. She fights back the urge to gently touch him, swallows down the lump in her throat and smiles.

"Good morning." She is relieved to hear her voice sounding as normal as it should and to see Damon returning her smile. If he still is suspecting anything, he hides it as carefully as she does.

"Good morning, sleepy head. How do you feel?"

She stretches her arms over her head as far as possible in the passenger's seat. "Good," she replies a little too fast, and then adds, "I think." To dispel all remaining suspicions she hastily changes the subject. "Where are we?"

"Your timing is impeccable." He pulls the car over and shuts the engine down. "This is as close as we can get by car. From here on out, we'll have to walk through the woods." He turns toward her and watches her thoroughly. "Are you up to that? It will take a few hours uphill to reach that witch, and then we still have to find her in the middle of nowhere…"

Elena nods. "I'm fine, really. I'm dying for a coffee, though…" She interrupts herself when she sees him wiggle his eyebrows. "No. You haven't…" Her own brows climb up, and she gapes at him incredulously as he leans back and grabs a paper bag from the back seat. The smell of coffee hits her nose, and also of something else. "Really? Coffee and donuts? We're in the middle of nowhere!"

She looks so happy that he can't hide a grin. (He wonders how his traitorous heart manages to jump in joy over her happiness.) "I'm awesome, I know."

"You are," she says with utter conviction (and only she knows how serious she is about that), and then she can't say anything else, because her mouth is full and her focus is on the donut in her hand.

(Except the part of her that always, always is focused on him.)

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><p>.<p>

**A/N:** There. I hope you liked it. As usually, tell me what you think...pretty please?


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own anything. If I did, a freaking awesome kiss would have been just the beginning...and Alaric wouldn't have died!

**A/N:** I know.

I could rant about how RL is a bitch theese days (it is) and how it doesn't leave me any time to focus on writing (it doesn't), but I guess it doesn't help. So I just settle on apologizing for the delay. Again.

Thank you so much for all those reviews and favs and follows; with everything going on in my life it's the only thing keeping me writing at all.

And thank you for being patient with my take on the characters (um...yeah, on Elena, mainly). I'm trying to stay true to the characters how they are established in the show (luckily just until 3#14!), just nudging them (her!) a little bit in the 'right' direction, but it obviously takes a little time...bear with me.

I hope all the East-Coasters among you are okay...

Here it goes...

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><p>.<p>

**Chapter 14**

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><p>.<strong><br>**

In the late morning hours in Mystic Falls, two things happen nearly simultaneously.

..

In the outskirts, at the boarding house, Gale knocks on Abby's door, balancing a tray with coffee and pancakes in her hand. When she doesn't receive an answer, she knocks two more times, each time louder than before. When she is still met with silence, the quiet sense of foreboding turns into certainty that something is seriously wrong, and she determinedly opens the door without further ado.

One look suffices, and she knows that her intuition didn't fool her.

Abby's bed is used but empty, and so is the rest of the room; yet, there is no evidence to see that she fled. Her bag is still on the chair, a glance into the closet reveals her clothes, and the dresser is jam-packed with herbs.

Gale knows enough about Abby to be sure that she would never leave without her herbs. Many of them are rare and hard to come by, and it's practically the only way she is still capable of doing magic at all. She would never leave them behind; not if she had the chance to take them with her.

That allows just one conclusion, and Gale turns on her heals and dashes through the hallway.

She takes two stairs at a time and storms into the parlor, slightly out of breath and panic in her face.

Three vampires' heads jerk toward her, and Kol jumps up from the couch he was sitting on.

Three pairs of eyes watch her appalled.

They know something happened, but no one is prepared for this.

"Abby must have been kidnapped!"

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At the same time, in the center of the town, Klaus gets out of the car and blurs over to the driver's side to open the door for Caroline. He offers her his hand to help her out, but she ignores it. (He thinks that it's almost a ritual by now.) The hint of a grin makes his lips twitch briefly before he straightens up and closes the door behind her.

"So…" he says.

"So…" she repeats, and not for the first time she feels a nervous flutter in her belly. She points to the old building she has parked the car in front of. "Here it is. This is where we brought her."

He looks surprised. "The old City Jail? And no one knows about the special vampire torture cell down there? Seriously, this town is weird."

"Tell me about it," Caroline mutters while walking around to the back of the car to open the trunk. She takes out a bag filled with food and water for Esther. Klaus watches her pensively.

"I hope you didn't bring anything too tasty. We have to keep her alive, nothing more." His eyes are blazing with fury for a moment, as always when he thinks of his mother.

Caroline can't hide a grin. "Nope; just stale bread and water. I wasn't feeling any do-gooder's vibes, I guess."

He grins back, the fury blown away as fast as it rose. He takes the bag from her, lifts it up to his nose to sniff in it. "Yes," he grins, "this doesn't smell tasty at all. Good girl."

Their eyes meet, and for a second there Caroline feels this connection she doesn't want to feel. She turns around abruptly and walks over to the jail. She opens the door and enters, sensing him following her. They cross the hallway, and at the other side she opens the hidden door that is leading down to the dungeon.

"This way," she says, letting him pass her.

He nods. "You better wait outside."

"You don't have to tell me twice," she mumbles before she retreats and leaves the house, and he grins again. They decided for a reason to let Klaus go to the witch to bring her the supplies; he's the only one who seems to be strong enough to resist her magic, and they can't have her witchy woo wooing anyone to stage a jail break.

Caroline doesn't expect him to stay longer than necessary, but she's baffled when he shows up only seconds after her leaving him. She reels back at the sight of him; his face is contorted in rage. He grabs her by her shoulders, hard enough that it would have hurt her if she wasn't a vampire. "Who else knows about this place?" he hisses, barely containing himself.

"What? Why? Only you and Elijah, and of course Stefan and me." She struggles to get free. "What's going on, Klaus?"

"When I opened the latch, I found the cell empty," he fumes.

"What?" Caroline's eyes widen in fear, and she stops struggling. Klaus lets her go, almost shoves her away, and she sees the muscles underneath his temples ticking.

"Yes, you heard right." Pure hatred resonates in his voice, and for the first time in a long time Caroline remembers why they all used to be afraid of him. "Mother's gone!"

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They appear at the boarding house like a blizzard. Klaus is all violent and icy. He didn't bother to take the car; he knew he was faster vamp-speeding there anyway. Caroline blurred after him, silently begging for the ability to somehow hold him back, to prevent him from doing the others any harm, but she can't reach him; not with her voice nor with her calming hand. He storms through the front door and brushes past Stefan, directly sweeping into the parlor, where the others instinctively take in defensive stances.

"Where is she?" he yells, merely having entered the room.

Elijah, composed as ever, raises one brow in mild astonishment. "How do you know?"

In a flash, Klaus has him pinned against the next wall. "Where is she?" he repeats growling, but Elijah isn't one of the Salvatores. He snatches his younger brother's arm and hurls him aside like a rag doll, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket.

"Pull yourself together." The slight strain in his voice is the only sign giving away his anger. "What do you know about Abby's disappearance?"

Klaus stares at him, and the shock at these words achieves what nothing else could – he calms down a bit. "The Bennet witch disappeared, too?" he asks, jumping to his feet again. "When?"

Stefan, who had been watching them silently, steps closer now. "What do you mean, 'too'? Who else disappeared?"

Klaus turns toward him and then looks the others over. It doesn't take long for him to add two plus two; he rolls his eyes and a moan escapes his throat, and walking over to the window, observing the driveway as if Abby could be hiding somewhere he asserts, "Fantastic. She had help."

..

The air of calm frustration momentarily surrounding Klaus turns out to be just the vessel for something a lot more explosive. The very next moment he turns around, blurs to the piece of furniture closest to him which happens to be a wing chair, lifts it up and throws it across the room with a cry of rage. Kol ducks down just in time, bringing Gale down with him and burying her underneath him, and instead of crushing against their heads the chair lands in a book shelf, bursts into pieces and produces a rain of loose pages from books ripped apart at the impact.

The endangering of Gale's life, the only person Kol ever really cared about, has him in the same rage as his brother within a split second, and in a blink he's over Klaus and flings him against the wall. The hybrid leaps up and pounces on his brother, pushes him against the nearest book shelf with his hands at his throat, ignoring Kol's hands doing the same to him. Their faces only inches apart, neither of them cares about the others' shouting to stop either, until suddenly both let each other go, clutching their heads instead and bending forward; Kol sinking to his knees after a moment, Klaus rather irritated than pained.

"Knock it off! Both of you!"

It's Gale's voice, unusually sharp and authoritative, that drives them apart, restricting themselves to shooting visual daggers at each other when the headache the witch gave them ceases.

"This isn't helpful," Elijah supports her, stepping beside the witch standing in the middle of the room now, "we have more important things to take care of." He turns toward Klaus. "I take it Mother somehow escaped. What about the ashes, Niklaus? Did you hide them as I told you to?"

His focus still on his youngest brother, Klaus narrows his eyes to small slits. "No, I haven't. It's pretty convenient to have them at my disposal in case I need them." When Kol doesn't take the bait and just smirks, Klaus heaves a dramatic sigh. "Of course I expected the Original Bitch to be locked away safely. Who knew that even a house full of vampires wouldn't be able to keep one little out-of-order witch under control?" He straightens a little and strolls over to the liquor table. Without hesitation he grabs the bottle of Damon's best bourbon, pours himself two fingers into a tumbler and downs it in one gulp. (It's almost as if he wants to poke Damon a little, even though he's absent, knowing fully well that it's a dick move to gulp this stuff down without savoring it the least bit.) He sets the glass back on the table, throws a scornful glance around to no one in particular and turns toward the front door. "I guess I have to go home and hide it now, although I doubt that she dares to come back into my house. I bet she knows that I won't be talked out of ending her pathetic life once more."

A satisfied grin flickers in his eyes when he sees Caroline jump to her feet, propelled up by his casually spoken words; he still knows how to pull her strings.

"I'm coming with you," she blurts out before she can think twice about it and follows the hybrid. She freezes when she suddenly realizes what she's doing. She feels Stefan's eyes on her and turns around to meet his disapproving gaze. 'It's Bonnie,' she mouths. (She tries hard to convince herself.)

But Klaus, for now, spares her the necessity to explain herself. He's not in the mood to take the risk to be pussy whipped by this girl again. (And he's embarrassing certain that he would let it happen again.) "No, thanks. I can handle myself," he says, and then the door shuts behind him.

Caroline stares after him, not aware of the glances she draws on herself; what she is aware of though is the mushy mass somewhere inside her that is supposed to be her feelings.

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They hike for hours.

There's no path they can follow, they have to bushwhack their way through the woods. Sometimes it's easy to walk, mostly it's not. Their feet sink into the deep layers of last years' rotten leaves, thorny brush hooks its claws into their legs and branches hit them in their faces as if they were angry at them for crossing through.

Elena doesn't complain once, but Damon knows that it's getting harder for her with each passing hour. He doesn't know whether it's the aftermath of Esther's spell, the herb's effect already begins to cease (the very thought of it makes his heart sink into his boots, pissed or not) or if she's simply tiring because she's only human, just faster due to the recent events. Either way, he tries to make it as easy for her as possible, holding branches out of her way, choosing ways that seem to be the easiest to walk on, but he sees her getting weaker as time passes by. Of course he offers to carry her, not just once, but as expected she plainly refuses.

Just when he decided to have a break, to sit down and give her time to recover a little, they break through the edge of a particularly dense part of the woods, and the view unexpectedly appearing in front of them takes their breath away.

They are standing at the fringe of a clearing that almost completely consists of a small lake, more of a pond actually, partly embedded by jagged cliffs they hadn't anticipated to be here; steeply rising walls growing out of nowhere. The lake is filled with crystal clear water, fed by a waterfall coming down from high above them. It's not really one of the mightiest downfalls either of them had ever seen; it's no racing current, roaring, violently rushing down a gaping abyss. It is rather comparable to the soft flow of an old faucet, so soft that it's murmuring over the stony walls, falling freely down the last yards due to a ledge, bubbling and gurgling into the lake. It seems almost magic; even the softest wind blow scatters the stream; and maybe it's just the angle the afternoon sun rays are hitting the clearing, but the tiny water droplets glisten and twinkle all over the opening like fairy dust, spraying the fern and small bushes growing on the wall around it with fresh, light green.

They both stand completely still for a long moment, marveling in the beauty of it; only their eyes wander to take it all in.

"Wow," Elena eventually breaks the silence, "I forgot."

Damon has an inkling, still he asks, "About what?"

Elena inhales deeply, trying to catch the magic of the place. "You know, with all the craziness around us I forgot about the beauty the world still has to offer; to normal people, anyway."

He turns his head and watches her, and suddenly his heart aches at what he sees. Not because she looks sad, but because she doesn't. She seems to be resigned to the fact that this is her life now, crappy as hell and mostly without the barest hint of beauty in it, instead full of violence and blood and death. Guilt boils up in him; this is his fault, his and Stefan's. If they hadn't come to Mystic Falls, she would have lived a normal life. She would have recovered from her parent's death, found a normal guy to love, built a normal life. White picket fence and all that. He sighs.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, but she only looks at him slightly surprised. When it dawns on her what he's sorry for, she shakes her head. "Don't be. It's not your fault."

He chuckles humorlessly. "The hell it isn't. If it hadn't been for Stefan and me…"

She cuts him short. "I'm the doppelganger. They would have come for me anyway, only that I'd be dead right now if you two hadn't been there. The only one who is to blame is Klaus, and I'm not even sure about that anymore."

"What?" Damon furrows his brows, bemused at these words. "Where did you get _that_ idea from?"

She gazes at the shimmery droplets and after a while shrugs her shoulders. Then, as a signal to follow her, she nods her head toward a rock a few yards aside that nature conveniently formed almost like a stony bench and moves over to settle on it. He sits down beside her, still trying to process what she said.

"You're not having second thoughts about killing Klaus, are you?" he asks, his voice somewhat reproachful about having even to ask about that. "I mean, Elijah I got, what with his weird sense of moral. But Klaus? Elena, he killed Jenna _and_ you without blinking, and look what he did to Stefan. He also would've killed Barbie and her wolf…"

"You're one to talk." She glares at him now; the thought of him wanting to kill one of her best friends, twice even, disturbs her, as always when it pops up in her mind. Not to mention the moment he _did_ kill her little brother. Mostly she manages to forget about it, because so much has changed since back then. He has changed so much, and she trusts him with her life; still…_If it comes down to you and the witch again, I will gladly let Bonnie die_…so much has changed, but not this. He still doesn't value life as much as she does, except hers and Stefan's and maybe Ric's; and she just can't understand that. Sure, he would always protect and save her friends and family, what little was left of it, but he would do it mainly for her. Not because he felt the need to.

She sees his eyes changing at her accusation, sees the feelings shift from anger to defiance to hurt, until he finally succeeds in putting up his mask again. (It's almost funny how the king of charades is an open book to her.)

"Really? That's what you're doing? Comparing me to the devil?" he asks, and he manages to hide away his hurt, to sound incredulous and even a little pissed.

"Just saying; you're not exactly innocent, Damon." Elena holds his gaze, and then she sighs. "But… no, I'm not. Not really, and you know that; and I don't have second thoughts. I want him dead; it's just…according to Rebekah he wasn't a monster when he was human, and it's not his fault that he became a vampire. So, is he really to blame for everything he did? You know, I used to see the world in black and white, but with everything that happened…" She shakes her head and eventually lowers her gaze, away from him. "Turns out there are only shades of grey."

He swallows; he knows exactly what changed her view of things. He was the one dissolving the black, and then Stefan robbed her of the white. And again he feels sorry; this time however he doesn't say a word. It feels like if he said something, he would push her to absolve them, and he doesn't think either of them deserves it.

She grabs a small pebble from the ground and turns it round and around between her fingers. "You know, you were right back then."

He narrows his eyes for a split second, and then he cocks his head and cracks a grin. "I know. I'm always."

Elena just rolls her eyes, and sighing he lets it drop. "About what?"

"I _did_ try to turn you into Stefan."

Now he raises his brows a little, but doesn't move otherwise; he waits.

She keeps fidgeting with the pebble, and he can tell that she is not as self-confident as she usually is. "I thought I had it all figured out, that whole vampire thing." She snorts. "I was wrong. You know, there was Stefan, who chose to quit drinking human blood and acting like a vampire in general; I saw Caroline, who apparently had no qualms at all to stay the same Caroline she always had been, even a better one, stronger and more self-assured; they both were mostly, you know, kinda…normal people with a special diet. And whatever you were when we met in the beginning, at one point it didn't count anymore, because you, too changed into that kind of person. Because you chose to, just like them."

Damon slightly shifts in unease, slowly getting an idea where she is headed, but she doesn't seem to notice. "So, obviously it was choice defining which kind of vampire one wanted to be. It was so easy to see it this way, and it was perfect for me because it felt…safe." She pauses, collecting her thoughts; she lifts her arm over her head and throws the stone into the lake. They both silently watch the growing rings in the water where the pebble landed.

When she goes on, her voice has an edge of bitterness. "And then everything went to hell. The one who once took control over his bloodlust was suddenly completely off the rails, _despite_ his choice. And what he did…" She shakes her head violently to get rid of those thoughts. "I wanted so desperately believe, that it was all …you know, sort of an accident, an illness, curable; that it wasn't part of what it means to be a vampire. And I still could hold onto my view of things; because of you. What you did all those months…" She falls silent for a few seconds, and he doesn't dare to interrupt her thoughts. It's rare that she is so open, and he never before heard her talking about this; and he feels that she is on to something and that it's something important.

She swallows, hard. "But then you snapped Ric's neck, and attacked Bill Forbes…dammit, Damon, in my book you were supposed to feel differently after you chose to change. But you still…freaking _enjoyed_ it. Just like Stefan did." She turns her head to look at him, and he can't detect the reproach he expected in her face, instead he sees agony in her eyes. (He knows it's the agony of comprehending.) "How can a good person like you enjoy inflicting pain and death on people? How does that work? I don't get that."

He watches her silently for a moment; he feels sorry for her, he really does, because he can see and hear how desperate she is. For a while another feeling is stronger though, and it's the shitty little feeling of I-told-you-so_… I'm still a vampire_…Repeatedly he had tried to make her accept that they _were_ different, but she always had simply refused. Now she is finally beginning to allow herself to deal with _his_ reality, and he understands that it scares her. The world that she built in her head crumbled around her, and she doesn't know _how_ to deal with it because she doesn't understand what is left.

He lifts his hand and, shooting the no-touch policy to hell, brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's because I'm not a good person, Elena," he says softly.

She gets angry immediately. "Yes, you are," she hisses, "despite everything you want to make us believe. That's why I don't understand…"

"It's _not_ just a matter of choice. This isn't something we _can_ choose to feel or not to feel," he cuts her short, pulling his hand away from her. "It's an instinct. You can choose to _fight_ it, but no matter how much we don't want to feel the thirst for blood and the need to kill, the instinct will always be there. And it's a pleasure to satisfy the instinctive needs." He sees in her face how it torments her. She really wants to understand them; then again she wants so badly keep up her view of them being the good people she needs them to be. (He can also see that she already knows that she lost both fights.) He can't comfort her with this, so he goes with the harsh truth. "You're right, you'll never understand it."

"Then make me!" she suddenly yells at him, punching her fist against his upper arm in the feeble attempt to make him do something she knows is impossible.

He snatches her wrist amidst the movement and holds it in a steely grip. "I can't, Elena, and you know it. There's just one way to find out how vampires…" He trails off, frowning. A thought crosses his mind, and he's not able to dismiss it instantly. "Unless…" He murmurs before cutting himself off.

"What?" Elena watches him attentively, then trying to squirm free. "_What_, Damon?"

There _is_ a way to make her understand, part of it at least…but he knows she would never let him do that. Determinedly he shoves the idea aside, steering the conversation back to an earlier point. "But we're all fighting. And we are pretty good at it, don't you think? Well, Barbie and I are…" He sees her shoulders sagging slightly, and this is what suddenly spurs the decision to tell her what his brother wouldn't have wanted him to tell. (A part of him tries to hold him back, because he knows what the outcome for himself will be.) He just can't bear her desperation any longer, and everything that gives her hope helps to keep her alive. "…and Stefan is on his way back."

Her head snaps up and her eyes lock with his. "What are you saying, Damon?" she whispers, and he kicks himself mentally when he thinks to see a shade of joy cautiously sneaking into her gaze. Still, she deserves to know, and Stefan deserves it, too.

"Stefan's back on Bambi blood, Elena. Your white knight is waiting in the wings. And against all odds, it's within your lifetime."

He sees the tears she fought to hold them back falling freely now. As so often, he is torn; hope was what he wanted to give her, and he's relieved about having achieved that. But to see her crying happy tears for his brother is still too much. He gives her a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes, hoping that it doesn't give away how he really feels, and leans back, bracing his elbows on the rock behind his back, staring over the lake again.

He doesn't want to see her now, he can't.

Had he taken a closer look, maybe he would have seen that, although she is relieved about Stefan's decision, the tears she's crying are not happy tears at all.


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